Casper High Presents: The Producers
by Soulless Warlock
Summary: It's Springtime for Hitler and Casper High, as Danny and his friends sign up for the spring musical. Step foward and witness the production unfold. DannySam. This is my first Danny Phantom story. Finally completed.
1. The First Time In History

**Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom that belongs to Butch Hartman or The Producers that belongs to the ever brilliant Mel Brooks.**

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**Date: April 4, 1936**

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The streets of the ever bustling Concord City were filled with people. Though a depression had swept the nation people in Concord seemed to be doing all right. In fact, the city's Porter Theatre was poised for a first in the history of the theatre, a musical directed by a woman. That woman was named Esther St. James, a former choreographer who had been made director when the original director had passed away. She seemed quite capable for the job and was ready for the show's opening night.

"Okay, I'll be back after rehearsals," she said, leaving the apartment she shared with her sister and brother-in-law.

Though she was in her mid-thirties, Esther was still very attractive and was engaged to be married a month to the day after the show she was directing opened. Opening night was just a day away and tonight was the final dress rehearsals. Esther walked out toward the street but didn't see a car coming. She turned when she heard the sound of the engine. Esther didn't have a chance to move as the car struck her.

The young woman hit the ground from the force of the car. The driver emerged from the car and raced to Esther's side, checking to see if she would respond to him.

"M'am, can you hear me? Somebody get a doctor! M'am, m'am, m'am," he shouted, with desperation.

Esther never responded to the man or to the doctor when one was found. She passed away. This put such a damper on the show that was to be opened the following night the producers decided that no one would mind if a show written by an unknown and directed by a woman wouldn't be missed. The theatre lights were dimmed, the cast was disbanded and the money was refunded to the investors. This brings us to the present day…

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Mr. Lancer was giving the class a lecture on the classic _The Grapes of Wrath_ when a student walked over and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Lancer said, as the door opened as the student walked into the room and handed a note to Lancer.

Lancer looked at the note and began to talk again, "I almost forgot about this. Class, if you'd please, I'd like to introduce the school's new head of the drama department, Miss Pamela Charles."

On those words, a woman, about 35, walked into the room and got a lukewarm response,

"Hello, as Mr. Lancer said, my name is Pamela Charles and I am the new head of the drama department. And I am here to tell you about the school's spring production. The show will be my personal favorite,_ The Producers_."

Tucker looked back at Sam and Danny and said, "Oh, that is a great movie."

Danny responded, "Never heard of it."

"What?" Tucker asked, somewhat shocked at what Danny had said. "Never? I could've sworn I brought the entire collection of Mel Brooks' movies to your house one night."

"Was he the guy who did the _Star Wars_ spoof?" Sam asked, joining into the conversation.

"Yes!" Tucker responded, now annoyed at his friends lost memories.

"Oh, yeah, I remember," Danny said, chuckling. "Those guys used combs to comb the desert."

"Mr. Fenton, Mr. Foley and Miss Manson, Ms. Charles is trying to inform the **entire** class of the spring show!" Lancer said.

"Thank you, Mister Lancer," Miss Charles said. "As I was saying _The Producers_ is an award-winning musical about two producers that try to make more money off a flop. For those of you who will be auditioning you will get the whole story but for those who don't just won't get the whole story."

Ms. Charles reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of papers.

"These are the times for auditions. I'm hoping to see all of you there."

With that Ms. Charles left the room.

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After school Danny, Tucker and Sam were walking down the hall to find the sign-up sheet for _The Producers_' auditions.

"So, are either one of you going to sign up?" Tucker asked.

"Are you kidding?" Danny said, backing away from the sign-up sheet. "And sing in front of all those people?"

"Danny does have a point; I'm not trying out either."

"Why? You can sing," Tucker asked.

"Yeah, but the only characters that are girls are either ancient or sluts."

"What's wrong with that?" a new voice said.

The gang turned to see the running form of Eric Ridley, the resident theatre nerd, and his best friend, Ashley Saxon, coming down the hall.

"I'm signing up for the show," he said, happily writing his name on the sign-up sheet.

"Can you even sing?" Sam asked.

"I've known to," he said, proudly.

"Yeah, and you keep those bricks from the neighbors coming," Ashley said, shooting down her friend's moment.

"You're dad caused that," He shot back, defensively.

"No, that was you."

"It was your father," Eric said, trying to reinforce his defense.

"Oh, look at the lovebirds, isn't it sweet?" a new and more annoying voice entered the conversation.

"We are not lovebirds!" Danny and Sam shouted in unison

Dash Baxter and his friends were standing just a stone's throw away from the group; he looked at his friends and said, "I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to those two."

Eric and Ashley exchanged looks and shouted back, "We are not lovebirds!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Have any of you losers signed up for the show?" Dash asked, hoping to get a laugh from this.

"I did," Eric said, proudly.

Dash, Paulina and Kwan started to laugh at the smiling Eric as Kwan asked, "Can you even sing?"

"I've been told I could," he answered.

"By who? Your mother?"

There was a pause.

"Yeah," he answered. "She's not the best critic, is she?"

Everyone shook their heads and all three groups separated without incident but what the supposed losers didn't see was Dash, Paulina and Kwan sign up for auditions.


	2. Auditions, Part I

**Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom, that belongs to Butch Hartman or The Producers, that belongs to the ever brilliant Mel Brooks. The songs used in this chapter belong respectively to Mel Brooks, Billy Joel, John Kander and the late Fred Ebb as well as Joe Darion and Mitch Leigh.**

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Danny was alone, and for the fact he could always be found with his friends was pretty amazing. He took out a pen and signed his name on the list to audition for the six major leads and noticed something strange on the list, the names of Dash, Kwan and Paulina. He shook off the strange occurrence and walked off to find Sam and Tucker. He didn't have to look far as he spotted Tucker emerging from the drama department's office. Tucker was leaping for joy and Sam was seemingly smiling at something.

"Hey, guys, what with the smiles? The world isn't ending is it?" Danny asked, knowing that Sam smiling is one of the Seven Signs of the Apocalypse.

"We just talked to Ms. Charles and she gave me the job of stage manager," Sam said, before looking at the puzzled Danny, who asked, "I thought you said you didn't want to be in the show?"

"I don't. But, I never said I wouldn't help with it. My grandmother owns the soundtrack to the show, it's actually pretty good."

"Told you so," Tucker said, smugly. "And she gave me a job in the lighting and special effects department."

Danny started to smile; he wasn't going to be the only one among his friends to be involved in the show. He decided to surprise them during the auditions that would take place later that day.

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The auditions for actors and actresses began at 4:00, after weeding out dancers for the show's dance numbers. Ms. Charles and Sam were sitting at the foot of the stage in the auditorium.

"I'll be going down the list in the order you signed on. Could Eric Ridley please come up?"

Eric ran to the stage and asked, "So, what do you need?"

"Just a song and a monologue."

"Ah," Eric said as he turned from the group of people and messed up his hair, before turning to the director, "I'm drowning here! I'm going down for the last time! I…I…I see my whole life flashing before my eyes! I see a weathered old farmhouse…With a white picket fence…I'm running through fields of alfalfa with my collie, Rex. No Rex, not on the alfalfa. And I see my mother…I see Mama, standing on the back porch…And I hear her calling out to me…'Alvin, don't forget your chores! The wood needs a-cordin' and the cows need a-milkin'! Alviiiiin! Aaaaalviiiiiiiiiiiin!'…Wait a minute. My name's not Alvin. That's not my life. Someone else's life is flashing before my eyes. What the hell is that about? I'm not a hillbilly; I grew up in the Bronx. Leo's taken everything from me…Even my past!"

There was a pause in the auditorium as no one responded to Eric's monologue.

"A little help here," he said, out of the corner of his mouth.

The music director of the show, Sebastian Prichard turned to Eric and said, "I need a song first."

"Oh, do you know _The Knight of the Woeful Countenance_?"

Sebastian ignored the question of the younger boy and started to play the piano as Eric took a deep breath and started to sing, _"Hail, Knight of the Woeful Countenance, Knight of the Woeful Countenance! Wherever you go, people will know of the glorious deeds of the Knight of the Woeful Countenance!"_

The audience was impressed that Eric's voice was actually a very strong baritone. Ashley smiled, she was waiting for him to do this as he continued to sing, _"__Oh valorous Knight, go and fight for the right, and battle all villains that be, but oh, when you do, what will happen to you, thank God I won't be there to see!"_

"_Hail, Knight of the Woeful Countenance, Knight of the Woeful Countenance, face to the foe, they will quail at the sight of the Knight of the Woeful Countenance! Farewell and good cheer, oh, my brave cavalier, ride onward to glorious strife. I swear when you're gone I'll remember you well for all of the rest of my life."_

"That's very good, Eric," Ms. Charles said, giving him an approving applause.

Eric walked off the stage and joined Ashley, who patted him on the back and then wiped off what appeared to be sweat from her hand.

"Could Paulina Cruz please take your place on the stage?"

Paulina walked onto the stage more subdued than Eric and said, "My monologue is from the movie, _Meet the Parents_."

"This should be good," Sam said, out of the corner of her mouth.

"Greg, it's me," Paulina said in a sincere manner – an almost 180 from her usual fakery, "you're probably in the air right now so I guess you'll just get this when you get home. Uh, Listen, I am so sorry. I acted like a complete idiot and I hope you can forgive me."

"Paulina, that was beautiful," Ms. Charles said, smiling at Paulina and making a mark down in her book.

"I guess one good talent comes out of being fake," Ashley said to Eric.

"Hey, leave the girl alone, I was moved," Eric said, trying to defend Paulina.

"May I ask what part of you was moved?" Ashley asked, causing Eric to blush.

Back on the stage, Paulina turned to Sebastian and asked, "Do you know 'Nowadays'?"

Sebastian looked at her and answered by playing the opening notes to 'Nowadays'. Paulina sang, _"It's good, isn't it grand, isn't it great, isn't it swell, isn't it swell, isn't fun, isn't it, nowadays. There's men everywhere, jazz everywhere, booze everywhere, life everywhere, joy everywhere, nowadays."_

Much to everyone's surprise, Paulina's singing voice was a far cry from her speaking voice, _"You can like the life you're living; you can live the life you like. You can even marry Harry but mess around with Ike. And that's good, isn't it grand, isn't it great, isn't it swell, isn't it fun, isn't it…"_

Ms. Charles stopped Sebastian as the song reached a pause and clapped at Paulina's rendition of 'Nowadays.'

"That was wonderful, Paulina. Could Dash Baxter please come here?"

At that point, Ashley spit her drink on Tucker, who was sitting right in front of her.

"Hey, that's not cool!" he shouted as Danny watched from a distance and started to laugh.

Dash walked up onto the stage and answered Ms. Charles' question before she could ask the question, "My monologue is from the movie, _Batman Begins_."

'Nice choice,' Danny thought as Dash began to talk, "You traveled the world…Now you must journey inwards…to what you really fear…it's inside you... there is no turning back. Your parents' death was not your fault. Your training is nothing. The will is everything. If you make yourself more than just a man, if you devote yourself to an ideal, you become something else entirely. Are you ready to begin?"

Everyone in the auditorium was caught by surprise at the actual preparation Dash had put into the monologue. Ms. Charles clapped once again as Dash turned to Sebastian and asked, "Do you know _All About Soul_?"

Sebastian began to play as Dash sang, _"__She waits for me at night, she waits for me in silence, she gives me all her tenderness and takes away my pain. And so far she hasn't run, though I swear she's had her moments. She still believes in miracles while others cry in vain."_

Dash stepped off the stage as Ms. Charles said, "That was very good, Dash."

Even Tucker, Sam, Eric and Ashley seemed impressed by Dash's hidden talent. Danny, meanwhile, was beginning to think this was a bad idea.

"I'm beginning to think this was a bad idea."

"I JUST SAID THAT!" a voice from Heaven roared, causing everyone in auditorium to jump where they were sitting or standing as they looked around for the source of the voice.

Ms. Charles picked up her list and looked at the next name. "Kwan Chan?"

Kwan walked onto the stage. "My monologue is from, _The Producers_."

Ms. Charles gave an approving nod as Kwan began to speak in a very nasal and excited voice, "What am I doing here? Mr. Bialystock was right. There is a lot more to me than there is to me. Stop the world. I wanna get on!"

He screamed out the last words before he turned to Sebastian and asked, "Can you play _You'll Find Your Happiness In Rio_?"

Kwan listened for the note that cued the lyrics and sang, _"You'll find your happiness in Rio; the beaches there are streamed in pearls. The tropic breezes always blowing and so we hear do the girls…"_

Eric spit out his drink at those words on Ashley, who spit her drink on Tucker. The two whom were spit on turned to Eric and shouted, "That was not cool!"

Danny turned to leave as Ms. Charles said, "Danny Fenton!"

On those words, everyone turned their attention to Danny, who was headed for the door of the auditorium.


	3. Auditions, Part II

**Disclaimer: As stated before in previous chapters, I do not own Danny Phantom or The Producers. They belong to Butch Hartman and Mel Brooks respectively. The songs in this chapter belong to Alan Menken, Stephen Schwartz together or Schwartz alone.**

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_Italics: Singing alone_  
**Bold: Sing at the time but different lyrics**  
_**Bold and Italics: Singing same thing together**_

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"Danny Fenton!"

On those words, everyone turned their attention to Danny, who was headed for the door of the auditorium.

"Danny Fenton? You're name is signed here. Did you want to audition?" Ms. Charles asked as

Danny blushed and said, "I did; now I'm not so sure."

Ms. Charles stood up and said, "Come on, Danny, it's not really that hard. Eric was nervous and he did very well."

"Told you so," Eric said to Ashley, who rolled her eyes at her friend, who in turn, stuck his tongue out at her.

Danny took a deep breath and began his monologue, "Sitting there at that moment I thought of something else Shakespeare said. He said, 'Hey…life is pretty stupid; with lots of hubbub to keep you busy, but really not amounting to much.' Of course I'm paraphrasing: 'Life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.'"

Ms. Charles chuckled at the quote from L.A. Story as Danny turned to Sebastian and whispered something in his ear. Sebastian laughed before he said, "Finally, a song I enjoy."

Sebastian began to play the opening bars of the song as Danny took another breath and began to sing, _"Safe behind these windows and these parapets of stone, gazing at the people down below me, all my life I watch them as I hide up here alone, hungry for the histories they show me."_

Even Sam and Tucker were taken back by Danny's tenor voice as their friend continued to sing, _"All my life I memorize their faces, knowing them as they will never know me. All my life I wonder how it feels to pass a day not above them but part of them."_

Danny held the note before belting, _"And out there living in the sun, give me one day out there, all I ask is one to hold forever out there where they all live unaware. What I'd give, what I'd dare just to live one day out there."_

The song picked up its pace as Danny began to move across the stage, _"Out there among the millers and the weavers and their wives through the roofs and gables I can see them, ev'ry day they shout and scold and go about their lives, heedless of the gift it is to be them._

"_If I was in their skin I'd treasure ev'ry instant out there, strolling by the Seine, taste a morning out there like ordinary men, who freely walk about there._

"_Just one day and then I swear I'll be content with my share. Won't resent, won't despair, old and bent, I won't care. I'll have spent one day out there!"_

The group in the gymnasium sat, stunned a little. Eric started to clap and was soon joined by Ms. Charles, who said, "Thank you, Danny, that was one of the best auditions I've seen so far."

Danny got off the stage and sat down next to Tucker and Sam, who patted him on the back and wiped what, seemed to be sweat off on their pant legs and skirt.

"That was amazing, Danny!" Tucker exclaimed

"Thanks," Danny said, his voice cracking as he did.

"Danny? Are you all right?" Sam asked. "You look as pale as a ghost."

"Ghost?" Danny shouted, leaping to his feet before Tucker and Sam

"No, Danny, there's no ghost," Sam reassured him. "You just look really pale."

"I guess I just realized what I did," Danny said, his eyes still widened at the thought of what he had done.

Ms. Charles looked down at her list and said, "May Ashley Saxon please take the stage?"

"Break a leg up there," Eric said to his friend as she stepped onto the stage.

Ashley opened her mouth and began to speak, "When you want something you have to make a bold move. George Washington took on the British Empire, Neil Armstrong was the first man on the moon, Ken Titus taped a hotel key to his underwear to score with an airport security guard."

Eric let out a snort at the comment his friend made as she walked across the stage and said, "Sam, I'm gonna need a little help with this," She turned her attention to Ms. Charles, "The song is kind of a duet," getting a nod from Ms. Charles.

Sam stood up and went onto the stage as Dash shouted, "Hey, look everyone, Scary Sammy's gonna sing with the Bashful Ashley!"

"Can his insults get any less original?" Ashley asked Sam, out of the corner of her mouth.

Ashley turned to Sebastian and whispered something in his ears.

"I love you guys," he said, before playing.

Ashley whispered something else in Sam's ear, who nodded as Ashley sang, _"__Many nights we've prayed, with no hope anyone could hear. In our hearts a hopeful song we barely understood." _

Sam joined in with her part of the verse, _"Now we are not afraid although we know there's much to fear. We were moving mountains long before we knew we could."_

The two girls started to sing out the chorus, _**"There can be miracles when you believe. Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill. Who knows what miracles you can achieve when you believe. Somehow you will, you will when you believe."**_

The song stopped as the girls took a bow. Ashley returned to her seat where Eric was waiting and she heard him cough out, "Wuss!"

"Shut up!" she snapped back. "I got nervous and panicked."

"Hey, it's all right," Eric reassured her. "You did really good, maybe a chorus role."

"Thank you, my best friend," she said, sarcastically.

Sam returned to her friends who just looked at her. She turned to them and said, "Not a word."

"We told you, you should've tried out," Tucker said, shrugging.

"I gotta agree with Tucker on this one, Sam," Danny said. "How come you don't want to try out?"

"Because I'm not an old lady and I'm not going to act like a whore on stage, leave that Paulina," she snapped, visibly angry at her friends for not dropping the issue.

"Okay, Okay," Danny responded, turning to Tucker and whispered. "Is it that time of the month where she hates us for breathing?"

"No, that was last week," Tucker answered.

Auditions continued and the groups of friends got to see the school show off their hidden talents.

When auditions ended, Danny Sam and Tucker along with Eric and Ashley were heading out when Ms. Charles announced, "I'll be posting the results in three days' time."

"So, who wants to hit the Nasty Burger before we head home?" Danny asked.

"Why not?" Tucker said. "I heard they got the new Triple Meat Cheeseburger in today."

"That is disgusting, Tucker," Sam said, annoyed at her friend's meat obsession.

"Triple Meat Cheeseburger, you say?" Eric asked, salivating at the words and bolting for the door.

"Oh great, you've just unleashed the Nasty Hamburglar, Foley," Ashley following her friend. "I guess we'll see you guys there."

"Sam!" Ms. Charles said, calling after her. "Can I speak to you in private for a moment?"

"Sure, Ms. Charles," Sam said, "Guys, can you wait for a minute?"

"Sure," responded Danny. "We'll be out in the parking lot."

The two left as Sam turned to speak to Ms. Charles.

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**A/N: So who do you think will get each part? I've already chosen but I would love to see who you guys pick.**


	4. Cast Reveal

**Disclaimer: As stated before in previous chapters, I do not own Danny Phantom or The Producers. They belong to Butch Hartman and Mel Brooks respectively. The song in this chapter belongs to Adam Sandler and Tim Herlihy.**

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Musical Moments  
_Italics means they're singing_  
**Bold means they're singing at the same time just different things**  
_**Bold italics mean they're sing at the same time and the same words**_

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Three days followed without incident for Danny and his friends when they came back to gym. Danny, Sam and Tucker walked in and saw Eric, Ashley and a slew of other people on or around the stage.

Eric and Ashley were sitting center stage, an acoustic guitar in Eric's hand, as he and Ashley sang, _**"I'll miss you, kiss you, take your shoes off and rub your feet. Need you, feed you, and when we play checkers I'll let you cheat. So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink, put you to bed when you've had too much to drink. Oh, I could be the one who grows old with you. I wanna grow old with you."**_

Danny, Sam and Tucker moved closer to the stage as the song reached a conclusion. The crowd around them started to clap as one of the audience members turned to Danny and asked.

"Wasn't that beautiful?"

"It was nice," Danny answered. "I didn't see the whole thing."

Eric put down his guitar and stood up.

"Look who showed up," he said, helping Ashley out of her seat.

The duo walked to the edge of the stage, sitting down at the edge.

"You guys got here just in time," Ashley said, dropping from the stage. "Ms. Charles is about to post the results."

"And I got the lead and everyone will come and see how talented am I," a new, nasal voice shouted, as Paulina, Dash and Kwan entered the gym.

The three came to a stop when they saw all the people in the gym.

"Eww, Nerd Herd!" Dash shouted.

"Yippee, maybe he got the lead," Tucker said sarcastically, finding a seat.

They did not have to wait longer as Ms. Charles entered the gym with the results in hand. She stapled them to the bulletin board. Before Eric, who was closes to the board, could react, Dash, Kwan and Paulina bolted to the board, flooring the theatre nerd and knocking him off of the stage.

"Ow, my pride," Eric whimpered, as Ashley ran over to help him up.

"Who the hell is Roger De Bris?" Dash asked, turning to Kwan, who simply shrugged before checking for his name.

"Yes! I'm Franz Liebkind!" Kwan shouted, pumping his arms into the air.

"Who's he?" Dash asked, causing Kwan to join his friend in scratching their heads.

"Who am I?" Paulina asked, sliding between the boys.

"Bet that's not the first time that's ever happened," Sam quipped, as Ashley chuckled at the Goth girl's comment.

"I'm Ulla! I'm Ulla! I'm Ulla!" Paulina shouted, celebrating as she and her friends went to exit the gym.

"Mr. Baxter, Mr. Chan, and Ms. Cruz? You're forgetting something," Ms. Charles said, stopping them.

"We are?" Kwan asked, a look of confusion on his face.

"Yes, you did," she said, approaching them, an authoritarian tone in her voice. "I want you to treat this as if it were football or cheerleading practice. I want you to show up at every rehearsal, and give me 110 percent."

"Yes, ma'am!" they answered simultaneously.

"I need you guys to stick around," she said, before turning her attention to the crowd that had gathered around the bulletin board, some with looks of disappointment, and others with looks of jubilation.

Ashley helped Eric over to the bulletin board before he pushed her arms away to get a better view.

"Yes! Max Bialystok, baby!" he shouted, before singing, "_Again I will be king and be on top to…_Oh, God!" he said, clutching his ribs.

Ashley grabbed her friend again and asked, "Ms. Charles, can I take him to the nurse?"

"Go ahead, Ashley, I can't have a show without my star," Ms. Charles said, letting the two teenagers leave the gym.

Danny looked at the cast sheet and scrolled his finger across the board. He stopped when he saw something he didn't expect.

"So, what did you get, Danny?" Sam asked.

"I'm Leo Bloom," Danny answered, his eyes still wide in surprise.

"Not bad," a new voice said, causing Danny to turn and face another boy standing behind him.

The boy, who was wearing all black, put out his hand. "For a beginner, I mean," he said, as Danny shook his hand. "But, you're going have to keep with more experienced actors. If you screw up, the whole show could flop."

Danny eyed the boy; he was dressed in black and was wearing a serious expression.

"I don't know who you think you are, but no one messes with my friends while I'm around," Sam said, smacking the boy's hand upward.

"And you have your girlfriend fight your battles, you do belong here," the boy said, chuckling at his own comment.

"Who are you?" Sam asked.

"Wesley Wells," the boy answered. "And you?"

"Sam Manson," Sam replied.

"This is going to be fun," Wesley said cryptically as he walked away.

"I wonder what role he got?" Danny asked to no one in particular.

"Ironically enough, Carmen Ghia, the most joyous character in the show," Sebastian answered, appearing out of nowhere.

"You snuck up on us there," Danny said, startled at the sudden appearance.

"I'm very, very sneaky. You'll learn that once you get to know me," Sebastian said, before vanishing again.

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**A/N: For those who are worried, don't be, Sam will have a part in the show. You just have to be patient.**


	5. Author

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or The Producers. I only own my OCs.**

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The stage lights turn on as Soulless Warlock enters the room. He crosses to the chair set on center stage and sits. He takes out a stack of papers and a pair of reading glasses.

Soulless Warlock: I regret to inform the fans of Casper High Presents: The Producers that the story is on official hiatus until I can find a way to make the story funnier, as the last chapter sucked monkey nuts. I would like…

Eric enters on to the stage, guitar under his shoulder.

Eric Ridley: No Way! No way in hell are you taking away my premiere fic. What am I supposed to do until then? Roam around in good OC obscurity?

Soulless Warlock: No. I still plan on using you, but you must be patient.

Eric grabs Warlock by the collar and begins shaking the writer-wizard.

Soulless Warlock: (screams as he is being shook.) Ashley, do something!

Eric stops shaking Warlock as he looks at his neck and pulls out a tiny dart. He looks at the stage entrance, and sees Ashley standing there, holding a tranquilizer rifle.

Eric Ridley: (groggily.) You bitch.

Eric collapses onto the stage and Ashley steps out, helping Warlock pick him up. With her friend on her shoulder, she turns to Warlock.

Ashley Saxon: He is not going to be happy when he wakes up.

Soulless Warlock: (produces a piece of paper from his robes.) Give him this, it'll shut him up for a while.

Ashley drags Eric off of the stage as Warlock readjusts his clothes,

Soulless Warlock: Anyways, I would like the readers to please stop badgering with requests that Sam act in this story. It will all work out in the end; you just have to trust me.

I would also like for you, the readers, to help me out. If you have any good plot ideas besides 'Sam should act in the show' or 'you should update', I would love to hear them. I truly value the opinion of my readers

Until then, I have other ideas for other fandoms. This is Soulless Warlock, saying good-bye, good morning, good afternoon, good night and good luck for all the people of the world.


	6. The First Rehearsal

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or The Producers**

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The bell for the final class of the day rang as Eric sped out of the room with Ashley following close behind. Danny, Sam and Tucker were exiting another class. Eric energetically leapt through the hall toward the gym.

"_What time is it?"_ he sang. _"Theatre time! Time of my life!"_

Before he could continue the song, Ashley tripped him. Eric fell face-first onto the ground. When he rolled over, Ashley stood over him and asked.

"Eric, I know we've had this conversation before; what have I said about _High School Musical_?"

Eric thought about the question for moment,

"The songs lick monkey nuts, therefore I should never sing them in public unless to mock them."

Ashley took his hand and helped him to his feet. The duo disappeared into the gym. Danny and his friends looked at them with stunned silence.

"Remind me never to sing songs like that in front of her," Tucker said, stepping out in front of his friends and making his way to the gym.

"I'll remind him never to sing period," Sam quipped, chuckling as she and Danny followed Tucker into the gym.

Danny and Sam reached the gym and saw that the stage crew was hard at work, finishing a circular structure. This is where they found Tucker, Ashley and Eric, who was watching the scene play like that dog in the Beggin commercial. The stagehands motioned for Tucker and the others to jump onto the structure. Eric leapt first and was joined by the others. The stagehands pulled the ropes, wrapped around the structure and began to move. The circle twirled around, supporting Eric, Ashley and Tucker's collective weight.

"This should work," one of the stagehands shouted, high-fiving a fellow worker.

"Well, we're not the heaviest people in the show," Eric said, hoping down. "But, it should work for me and Danny."

The stagehands cursed silently when they realized he was telling the truth. Danny walked over to the trio.

"Where's Sam at?" he asked, looking around for the Goth.

"She went to find the other, more easily distracted cast members," Ashley answered.

"No!" a whiny voice screamed from inside of the locker room.

Dash barreled out of the locker room with Sam hot on his heels.

"C'mon Dash, it's not that bad," she said, trying to stifle a laugh that threatened to escape her lips.

"Not bad? Not bad?" Dash screamed, his voice expanding in a manner that would make an old-school theatre director salivate. "I thought this guy was a director. Nobody told me he wore dresses!"

"What is it, Dash? Is it the dress?" Eric asked.

"No, it's a nice dress," Dash said, calming down before realizing what he has said. "But, not for me."

"Dash, you're being ridiculous," a new voice said.

Dash turned around to see Paulina standing by the stage.

"I mean, you would look good in a dress," she said, moving closer to the jock, whose breath began to become more erratic. "You have such smooth skin and big sensitive eyes, and if you shave your legs, you could show the world those powerful legs that win us so many games."

"Okay, I'll do it," Dash said, who looked ready to drop from the close proximity that the pretty girl was to him, before he, well, dashed off to the locker room.

"Maybe I should've told him about the matching wig too," Sam said, loud enough for Dash to hear.

"What?" Dash shouted from inside the locker room.

"That was actually pretty clever, Paulina," Eric said. "How'd you think of that?"

"I just thought about all the people who would be denied the chance to see me on stage if Dash chickened out," Paulina responded. "Plus, Mommy and Daddy called some of their agent friends and they're going to come me and I'll get to leave this rat-hole town and go to Hollywood."

With that, Paulina turned on her heels and walked toward the stage, causing almost all of the stagehands and the few straight theatre geeks to try and make a place for her to sit.

"Well, I guess the altruism act is just that," Tucker said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah, but it worked," Sam said. "I may not like her plastic ass, but it comes in handy every now and then."

"Yeah, it does," Danny said. "Has anyone seen Ms. Charles or Kwan?"

The minute Danny said this, his ghost sense went off.

"Guys," he whisper/screamed to Tucker and Sam. "Cover for me."

On those words, Danny slid behind his friends and went intangible. He transformed into Danny Phantom as he plummeted toward the basement. Danny stopped before hitting the ground and phased through the wall.

**00000000**

Meanwhile, Ms. Charles was inside the teacher's lounge with her insulin shot. She injected it into her stomach before placing the syringe back into the case and disposing of the needle. She exited the lounge and was met by Kwan, who had a smile on his face.

"Hey, Ms. Charles," he said. "I can't wait for first rehearsals and my chance to play the noble savage Franz Liebkind."

"I'm sorry, what?" Ms. Charles asked, slightly concerned at Kwan's declaration.

"Well, a Nazi is an Indian, right?" he asked, scratching his head in confusion at his teacher's dumbfounded response.

"No, Kwan, he's not an Indian," she said gently.

"Then what is he?" he asked.

Ms. Charles whispered something into Kwan's ear. His eyes almost bugged out at the new information she had given him.

**00000000**

"So, I always thought replacing Nathan Lane with Brad Oscar wasn't the greatest choice for…"

Eric's rant was cut off when Kwan flung the doors open, covering his ears and shouting, "I can't do this!"

"Wow, this show is off to an auspicious start," Ashley said, looking at the ranting Eric, who was clearly annoyed at being interrupted.

"Kwan, it's not so bad," Ms. Charles said. "Dash has to wear a dress and matching wig. By the way, someone needs to tell him about that."

"Already did it," Sam answered, picking up the director's script and walking over to one of the chairs that had been set up for her and Ms. Charles.

"How'd he take it?"

"He couldn't wait."

Kwan looked over at Ms. Charles, who had turned her attention back to the young man.

"Now, what can't you do this, Kwan? You seemed so happy about when you got the part," Ms. Charles asked, smiling at him gently.

"Well, it's not that I can't play the role. It's just that he's a Nazi and I don't want people to think I am too," he answered.

"Is that all? Kwan, no one's going to think you're a Nazi. In fact, they're going to laugh at Nazis because of you."

"They are?" he asked.

"Of course, they are. Franz is so ridiculous you can't help, but not laugh. It would make a lot of people happy"

Kwan paused for a moment, the last words of Ms. Charles ringing in his ears.

"Make people happy? I'll do it," he shouted.

"Good to have you on board," she said, putting her hands, which Kwan shook happily.

**00000000**

Danny returned to the school, having had no luck on his search, and walked silently toward the gym door. He opened it as quietly as possible before tripping over an errant piece of wax paper. The sound of him crashing into the ground got the attention of the cast and crew.

"Thank you for finally honoring us with your presence, Mr. Fenton," Ms. Charles said, over the laughter of the students.

"Sorry about being so late. I had a bit of an emergency," Danny said, trying to figure out what his excuse would be today.

"You better have been on fire," Eric shouted, standing up from his seat before Ashley grabbed him by the belt and pulled him back into his chair.

"Ignore him, he gets rabid during cast readings," she said, punching Eric in the stomach to calm him down.

"I don't get rabid, I get testy, there's a difference," Eric said, clutching his stomach.

"And what was the emergency, Danny?" Ms. Charles asked.

"I was in the restroom," Danny said quickly.

"For almost 20 minutes?"

"They were serving mystery meat today for lunch," Danny answered, talking over the students who were laughing even louder than before.

"Oh," Eric said, his face changing to a look of sympathy. "All's forgiven. The mystery meat is murdered."

"That's why I'm a vegetarian," Sam said.

"Come on, Danny, let's get started before we're all here longer than we want to be," Ms. Charles said, handing Danny a script.

**00000000**

**A/N: I'm back, ladies and germs, and I think that, maybe, the next chapter may be the start of the show. However, I'll let the fans decide.**


	7. The Second Rehearsal

**The standard disclaimers apply when it comes to the ownership of both The Producers and Danny Phantom and anything else in this story I may not own. I do, however, own Eric, Ashley, and their families.**

**00000000**

The rehearsal entered their second month, with opening getting closer and closer with each passing day. In fact, opening night was only three weeks away. And Ms. Charles couldn't be more excited. She watched the students as they continued to become their characters.

On this particular day, she entered the stage to speak with her stars, Eric and Danny, about a song she had decided to add to the show. She found Eric sitting alone in the gym at Sebastian's piano, playing it and singing:

"_I don't wanna be anything other than I've been trying lately. All I have to do is think of me and I have peace of mind,"_ his fingers ran across the keys, as he continued to sing, _"I don't wanna be anything other than I've been trying lately. All I have to do is think of me and I have peace of mind,"_ he paused before belting out, _"I'm tired of looking 'round rooms wondering what I've got to do or who I'm supposed to be. I don't want to be anything other than me!" _

Ms. Charles clapped at the solo, getting the young man's attention.

"Hi, Ms. Charles," he said, turning back to the piano.

"That was very nice, Eric," she said, sitting down at the chair near the piano.

"It's nothing compared to Ashley's sister or Sebastian," Eric said, fixing his hair, which was now thinned out and combed over.

"Did you cut your hair?" Ms. Charles asked, noticing the change.

"Yeah. Figured I'd look more the part, so I had it thinned," he answered, running his hand through it. "Needless to say, my mother was not happy."

Ms. Charles chuckled at the young man's statements.

"I wanted to show you something, Eric. I think I've thought of a way to incorporate it into the show," she said, handing him a copy of sheet music.

Eric read the music before realizing what song it was. His eyes grew three sizes bigger than their usual shape. He looked up at Ms. Charles and practically leapt into her arms, shouting:

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

"You're very welcome, Eric," she said, trying to calm him down. "But, do you think Danny will go along with it?"

"I don't see why not, he has as many songs as me and I don't mind doing it."

"Well, I'm going to find," she said, standing up and exited the gym.

**00000000**

Danny was walking down the hall when his ghost sense went off for the first time in over a month. His eyes darted around the hallway, making sure no one was watching. He crotched low, willing the white rings around his body before the door to the gym opened, causing him to change his plans. Danny turned invisible before going through the floor.

**00000000**

Ms. Charles exited the gym just as Danny pulled his disappearing act and walked to the ladies room. She opened the door, hoping that no one was there. Her suspicions subsided when she found nobody at all. Ms. Charles walked over to the sink, pulling out her syringe and needle. She injected herself with the substance, checked herself in the mirror and turned to leave.

"You were almost too late," a clearly male voice said.

Ms. Charles turned to find the source of the voice, eyeing the mirror. In the mirror, Clockwork reappeared, a smile on his child-like face before he disappeared from the mirror and hit the floor in adult form.

"Hello, Clockwork," Ms. Charles said, her voice not cracking at the sight of the ghost before her.

"Hello, Ms. St. James," he responded, his walk procuring a swagger. "You almost ran out of time. You know the rules."

Ms. Charles closed her eyes, turning away from the time-controlling ghost.

"I know," she sighed, before repeating Clockwork's warning. "If anyone figures out I'm a ghost, especially Danny, I'll trapped in limbo for all eternity."

"Yes, that's right. I thought I would just show up to remind you, but you seem to have a better memory than I gave you credit for," Clockwork said, having transformed into a tired old man.

"Is that all that you came to tell me?" she asked, clearly annoyed.

"No, I came to say break a leg, you've assembled quite a cast," he said, vanishing from the bathroom.

**00000000**

At rehearsal, later that day, Eric and Danny were sitting on the stage, wondering where Paulina was.

"Where the hell is she?" Eric shouted.

"I ALREADY SAID THAT!" a thunderous voice screamed, causing Eric to jump off of the stage and crash onto Paulina, who had exited the room where the costume room.

"Eric, are you okay?" Ashley shouted, when she caught sight of her friend flying through the air.

"Yeah," he shouted. "I'm fine. Something soft and fluffy broke my fall."

He pulled himself up and dusted himself off. Dash and Kwan raced to check on their fallen friend.

"Paulina, are you okay?" Dash asked, his voice breaking when it climbed the extra decibels,

"Did the flying geek hurt you?" Kwan added.

"What'd he call me?" Eric shouted, turning around and coming eye-to-chest with Kwan, who had turned his attention to his friend's unintentional assailant.

Eric's eyes bugged out again when he realized the fight he had walked into. He made a noise reminiscent of Curly of the Three Stooges, waving his hand across Kwan's face and barking at him. He ran away before Kwan had a chance to register what had happened. Ms. Charles squatted down to check on Paulina, who had been knocked out by the amazing flying Eric.

"Great," she muttered. "Ashley, get Sam, I need someone to fill in for Paulina."

"Right," Ashley said, disappearing back into the costume room.

"Okay, we're going to have to just do the scene where Max and Leo meet Ulla without Paulina," Ms. Charles said. "Eric, Danny, can you two work without Paulina in the scene?"

"I think so," Danny said.

"I don't wanna," Eric, blurted out. "I can't hug air."

"We won't be doing anything other than the lines."

**00000000**

Sam, meanwhile, heard the ruckus Eric was causing, but decided it was best not to ask. Eric seemed to bounce back from injuries rather quick, so she wasn't really worried.

"I think we may have run into a problem," the voice of Wesley Wells said, the air suddenly getting an all-new chill factor.

Sam turned to see the black clad teen, looking at her.

"What're you doing in here?" she asked.

"Peeping at girls," he answered sarcastically. "I'm looking for my costume. I left it in here last night and I wanted to go over it again."

"Well, I haven't seen it," Sam said, as Wesley moved in closer to her.

"I think I left right where you're standing," he said, moving in closer and closer with each footstep. (Duh!)

Sam tried to move out of the way as Wesley picked up speed and was in front of her in the blink of an eye. Wesley grinned cockily at his fellow Goth, reaching past her rear end and pulling out a colorful sweater.

"Here it is," he said, his tongue gliding across his teeth before he pulled out a pair of matching slacks.

"You've got it, now get out," Sam said forcefully.

"I kinda of like it here," he said, flirtatiously. "I've been watching you, Manson, the way you fawn over that Fenton kid is cute, but he has no clue what to do with a beautiful woman like you."

Sam growled at Wesley as his lips moved in. Then, as can only happen in a cheesy romantic comedy or poorly written fanfic, the door to the costume room opened and Ashley entered the room.

"Sam!" she shouted. "We've got a bit of an emergency."

"Told you," Wesley drawled, pulling away from Sam. "See you later, Samantha."

Ashley had turned the corner when Wesley disappeared.

"C'mon," she said, grabbing Sam by the arms, "Paulina got hurt and Ms. Charles wants you to read the part."

"All right," she said, following Ashley out of the room.

**00000000**

Sam exited the room and saw Lancer helping Paulina out of the gym and into his car.

"How did she get hurt?" she asked Danny when she got onto the stage.

"Eric fell on her," he answered.

"It was not fault," Eric stated. "I was scared by the disembodied voice, I jumped into the air and Paulina was kind enough to break my fall."

Sam and Danny looked at Eric, puzzled at his statement, before they turned to Ashley and asked,

"Is he always like this?"

"Actually at home he makes less of a scene," Ashley answered, sitting down in the stage manager's chair.

Ms. Charles entered the gym.

"Okay, Paulina's on her way to the hospital. Ashley, did you find Sam?"

"She's on the stage, Ms. Charles."

"All right, Sam, I just need to read Ulla's lines for the scene. Turn to where Max and Leo meet her for the first time"

"Gotcha," Sam said, opening to the script.

"Let's start from the top," Ms Charles shouted.

**00000000**

**The next chapter may be the show. Tell me if that's a good idea or not, because I'm running out of good ideas of how to make the show look as terrible as possible.**

**If you wish to see more of this rehearsal, let me now. Kay? Thank you.**


	8. Opening Night

Soulless Warlock: I think all of the standard disclaimers apply in this chapter as the have in the other

Soulless Warlock: I think all of the standard disclaimers apply in this chapter as the have in the other. Unless, of course, Butch and Mel have had a change of heart. What'd you think, guys… Why won't you talk to me…Anyways, I own my OCs and that's about it…For now!

THis is the chapter where the singing starts. I just need everyone to remember

_Italicized: Singing_

**Bold: Singing together**

--

The three weeks past faster than anyone could predicted and soon the gym of Casper High was beginning to fill up with parents of the cast and curious alumni; this was the first musical at Casper High since the early 1970s when a certain overweight teacher attended the school.

"I cannot wait for this show!" An enthusiastic Jack Fenton, wearing his Pepsi hat, shouted, his popcorn box launching its buttery cargo into the air and onto Jeremy and Pamela Manson, who looked up at the larger man, who was now drinking out of the straws on his hat.

Pamela checked something off of her list.

"Hey, Jack!" Another voice shouted.

Jack whipped around to see Martin Spencer, Ashley's father and fellow ghost hunter, standing near the row of seats with his wife, Scarlet, and younger daughter, Audrey. Jack and Maddie joined them next to a handsome, pale man and pretty woman of about 40.

"Okay, guys, this is my best friend in the whole world," Martin shouted, his enthusiasm as strong as Jack's, "This is Eric's father, Elliot Ryan."

Elliot opened his eyes and turned his attention to Jack and Maddie.

"Hello." He said, his gruff Irish brogue filling the air, extending his hand to Danny's parents.

"Nice to meet you." Maddie said, smiling at the man.

"Let me guess, Maddie Fenton?" He said.

"I was going to say Jazz, you don't look like old enough to have one child in high school, much less." Elliot complimented.  
"Thank you, I could say the same about you." Maddie returned.

"I work out a lot." He said, smiling, "And you must be the notorious Jack Fenton."

"That I am." Jack said, shaking the Irishman's hand.

"And this is Eric's mother, Lizzie Spellman!" Martin declared, doing his impression of a NASCAR driver, darting around the seats, practically knocking Elliot into the next row.

He grabbed Lizzie and pulled her out of her chair.

"Nice to meet you." She said, shaking Jack's before Martin grabbed her hand again and forced it in front of Maddie, "And you too."

"It's nice to meet you too. Eric has told us all about the two of you." Maddie said.

"All good things, I hope." Lizzie said, exchanging the typical parental pleasantries.

"I hope that two loons don't spoil the show." Pamela whispered to her husband.

"Sweetie," Jeremy said, "You know the real reason why we're here is to make sure that there is nothing that's too inappropriate for the children and elderly to view."

"Speak for yourself." Ida Manson quipped under her breath, she loved her son dearly, but sometimes she wanted to knock him out.

--

Backstage, the entire cast and crew were spinning their heels, to use an old cliché, getting ready for Casper High's first musical in over 30 years. Ms. Charles and Lancer entered the cafeteria, which had been converted into the backstage area for the next three days.

"Ashley," Ms. Charles shouted, spotting her star's best friend, "Have you Eric? The curtain goes up in 10 minutes and no one knows where he is."

"I think he went looking for the wheelchair Franz uses in the second act." She answered.

"Why is he doing that?" She yelled, "Go find him and than find the wheelchair."

Ashley ran out of the cafeteria, her task pretty clear. It didn't take long for her to find Eric, who was casually pushing the wheelchair through the halls, humming the tune to "The Happy Working Song."

"Eric," She shouted, running up the stairs, "Get to the cafeteria, the show is about to start."

"Right." Eric said, stopping the chair at the steps, forgetting to lock the brake into place.

He ran down the steps, grabbing Ashley by the arm and disappearing around the corner. As they disappeared, Paulina rounded the corner.

"This dress is too tight," She whined, "Where is those costume girls at?"

In the midst of her whining, she decided to sit down in the wheelchair, not noticing how close the wheels where to the edge.

"There you are," Ms. Charles said, reprimanding Eric when they returned to the cafeteria, "Did you get the wheelchair?"

"Hey, has anyone seen Paulina?" Sam asked, "Ashley and I were supposed to check her dress."

The next two sounds anybody heard was the sound of a wheelchair falling down the steps and Paulina screaming at the top of her lungs. Everyone turned around and raced out of the cafeteria. They found Paulina lying unconscious on the floor. Lancer was the first to react, darting up the stairs and into the school's main office.

"Yes, this Edward Lancer, I'm the Vice Principal at Casper High School…One of the students is hurt…She fell down a flight of steps…Sweet Mother of English Literature, I don't know what caused the fall, the girl is hurt and needs an ambulance!"

Outside the office, the entire cast was standing there, their jaws hanging open with shock.

"What'd we do now?" Danny asked, "If we don't have Paulina, we don't really have a show."

"We could always say that it's Avant Garde and Ulla is an illusions based on the homosexual lust Bialystock and Bloom have for each other." Kwan suggested, getting awkward stares from everyone.

"Right, this isn't Brokeleg Mountain." Dash said, getting just as many stares as Kwan.

"I don't know what to do," Ms. Charles said, interrupting the bickering students, "First, we have to get Paulina some help and then we have to go on with the show."

"What?" Sam asked, "How can we do that without the entire cast though?"

"Sam, we do have the entire cast." The teacher said, standing back up, "We have Eric, Danny, Wesley, Dash, Kwan and you."

"Me?" The younger girl said, stepping, "No way."

"Sam, I asked you to practice the role for a reason. I needed an understudy, I have one for everyone in the cast."

"What?" Eric asked, catching the last statement out of the director's mouth.

"Just a precaution. After I saw that you are accident-prone and Danny has a serious bowel problem, I decided it was better safe than sorry to have an understudies waiting in the wings."

"Who was mine?" Eric asked.

He didn't get an answer because the medic came charging down the steps.

"What's her name?" One medic asked before the Danny, Eric and the others turned around and looked at Sam.

"What?" She asked, knowing the answer the minute that one word escaped her lips.

"Sam, I know I haven't know you for very long, but I like to think that I can be honest with you," Eric said, "Paulina's parents called in some top Hollywood brass and I have a chance to do what I've always wanted to do. Go to Hollywood."

Sam looked at the young man standing before her, her eyes shifting from each member of the cast and crew. They had all done so much for this show and the public would be so disappointed if they didn't have a show. She locked eyes with Danny, wishing, at this point anyway, that they had some sort of psychic connection. Danny shrugged before stating,

"It's up to you, Sam"

"Please!" Eric shouted, throwing himself at her feet.

He raised his head to reveal that he was pulling the old "Puss in Boots" routine; his already expressive eyes were bigger than ever. Sam looked back at Danny and then thought of one of the fringe benefits of playing the love interest of his character. Though she would never admit it, Danny had a power over her that would Paulina's power over Dash look like a magician's parlor trick.

"I'll do it." She said, forcing Eric off of her feet.

"Thank you!" He screamed, leaping to his feet and kissing the nearest warm body.

That warm body turned out to be Ashley. She seemed a little less than enthusiastic as Eric was, but soon wrapped her arms around her friend. She didn't get to enjoy as much as she'd have like too because Eric had let go of her and turned to the cast and medics.

"Okay, let's get the old news out of here and focus on a star," Eric said, "The baby seal eyes never fail."

With that he ran back to the cafeteria.

"Is that normal for him?" Sam asked.

"No, usually he doesn't ram in his tongue." Ashley answered back, clearly liking this side of Eric.

The medics were moving Paulina out of the school. Lancer reentered the stairway after seeing them off.

"Someone has to tell her parents." Ms. Charles suggested.

"I'll handle it," Lancer said, a uncharacteristic look of compassion on his face, "What about the show?"

"I have an understudy." She answered.

"Good, we wouldn't want the public to think this was all a hoax." He said, disappearing from the stairway and into the gym.

--

With Paulina's parents notified and the agents having gone since their reason for coming to this less-than appealing town would not be in the show, Ms. Charles appeared on the stage.

"Hello, and thank you for attending the Casper High Production of Mel Brooks' The Producers. A few announcements before we start the show. One, the role of Ulla will now be played by Samantha Manson, two, I would like to remind everyone that the show has some adult language, so those who are easily offended we apologize in advance, and three, I would like to thank Principal Ishiyama and Vice Principal Lancer for allowing us to do this show as it is written. Thank you."

The gym went dark and the stagelights hit the stage. The overture began to play and two girls dressed as usherettes appeared near a theatre style setting.

Usherette #1 & #2: _Opening night...It's opening night! It's Max Bialystock's latest show. Will it flop or will it go?_

The cast is taking its final bow, here comes the audience now, the doors are open: they're on their way...Let's hear what they have to say!

The doors of the "theatre" opened and the girls were run over. The First Night audience looked at each other, exchanging their opinions on the show.

First Nighters: _He's done it again, he's done it again, Max Bialystock has done it again! We can't believe it, you can't conceive it..._

Male First Nighter: _How'd he achieve it?_

First Nighters: _It's the worst show in town! We sat there sighing, groaning and crying, there's no denying it's the worst show in town!_

The audience members ripped their programs in half

Women First Nighters: _Oh, we wanted to stand up and hiss..._

Men First Nighters: _We've seen shit..._

First Nighters: _But never like this! Max Bialystock has done it again! The songs were rotten, the book was stinkin', what he did to Shakespeare Booth did to Lincoln! We couldn't leave faster..._

The usherettes reappeared, waving their hands over their noses, waving away the faux-stench

Usherette #1 & #2: _What a disaster!_

First Nighters & Usherettes: _We are still in shock, who produced this schlock? That slimy, sleazy Max Bialystock! What a bum!!_

The crowd dispersed, leaving one man alone. He pulled the paper down to reveal Eric, who did not look very happy. He looked at the usherettes, who had rejoined the producer. They eyed the paper.

"The reviews always come out faster when the critics leave in the middle of the first act," He said, defensively before reading the review, "'By the end of Funny Boy, Max Bialystock's musical malady of Shakespeare's Hamlet, everyone was dead. They were the lucky ones.'"

The sound of a violin hit the stage, the spotlight focused on Eric, walking down the street somberly.

"What the hell happened to me?" He asked rhetorically, "I use to…"

He paused when a blind violinist appeared on stage next to him.

"Could you keep it down, I'm trying to have a monologue." He shouted, "I mean,_ I use to be the king…"_

Eric grabbed the man's arms and returned them to their instrument and allowed him to play the opening melody of his first song,

Eric: …_The king of old Broadway, the best of ev'rything was mine to have each day._

I always had the biggest hits, the biggest bathrooms at the Ritz, my showgirls had the biggest tits! I never was the pits in any way!

He passed three people on the stage, the lights now more liberal in whom they showed.

Workman, Bum, Bag Lady: _We believe you, thousands wouldn't, we believe you, ev'ry word. We believe you, thousands couldn't, we believe each word we've heard_

Eric: _I used to be the king..._

Workman, Bum, Bag Lady: _The King?_

Eric: _The king of old Broadway..._

Eric sat down to enjoy the music and his new audience,

Blind Violinist: _It's good to be the king!_

Eric: _My praises they would sing, "a Ziegfeld" so they'd say. My shows were always filled with class, the best champagnes would fill my glass, my lap was filled with gorgeous ass, you couldn't call me crass in any way!  
_

The minute he said "gorgeous ass", the bag lady fell into his lap

Workman, Bum, Bag Lady, Violinist, Usherettes, Nuns, Street Cleaner: _We believe you, thousands wouldn't, we believe you, ev'ry word. We believe you, thousands couldn't, we believe each word we've heard_

Eric: _There was a time when I was young and gay...But straight. There was a time when I was bold. There was a time when each and ev'ry play I touched would turn to gold._

Chorus: _There was a time he wore the finest clothes, _

Eric: (crying) I did!

Chorus: _His shoes were always new…Ahh!_

Eric: _Now I wear a rented tux that's two weeks overdue!_

Chorus: _**Poor Bialy, what a shmoozer…Poor Bialy, what a shame…Poor Bialy, what a loser…Poor Bialy, goodbye fame**_

Eric: _**Rented tux...Overdue...Way overdue**_**…**

Eric hopped onto a box, holding his paper in the air, before shouting,

Eric: Such reviews! How dare they insult me in this manner? How quickly they forget. I am Max Bialystock! The first producer ever to do summer stock in the winter!

Chorus: _Once he was the king..._

Eric: You've heard of Theatre in the Round? You're looking at the man who invented Theatre in the Square! Nobody had a good seat!

Chorus: _King of old Broadway_

Eric: I've spent my entire life in the theater. I was a protégé of the great Boris Tomaschevski.

Chorus: Ooh!

Eric: Yes. He taught me everything I know. I'll never forget, he turned to me on his deathbed and said, "Maxella, alle menschen muss zu machen, jeden tug a gentzen kachen!"

Nun #1: What does that mean?

Eric's expression changed and he thought about what he had just said,

Eric: Who knows? I don't speak Yiddish. Strangely enough, neither did he. But in my heart I knew what he was saying.

He was saying, when you're down and out, and everybody thinks you're finished, that's the time to stand up on your two feet and shout, "Who do you have to fuck to get a break in this town?!"

Chorus: Yay!

Eric jumped off of his box and linked arms with his new "chorus" as they danced around a "bus"

Eric: _**I used to be the king, the king of old Broadway. Again I will be king and be on top to stay**_

Chorus: _**Used to be the king…King of old Broadway…On top to stay, hey!**_

Eric was helped onto the "bus" by the "passengers" and made his boldest declaration ever,

Eric: _There'll be gala opening nights again, you'll see my name in lights again. I'll go from dark to bights again, my spirits high as kites again  
_

_I'll never suffer slights again, I'll taste those sweet delights again. No plethora of plights again , no blossoming of blights again  
_

_No frantic fits or frights again, fame is in my sights again. I'll take those fancy flights again, I'm gonna scare the heights again  
_

_Bialystock will never drop…Bialystock will never stop...Bialystock will be on top again_

Chorus: _Fame is in his sights again, he'll take those fancy flights again, he's gonna scale the heights again_

Eric: _**I'll be on top again, hey!**_

Chorus: _**He'll be on top again, hey!**_

The audience began to clap at the scene that had just played when the lights went. On the "bus", Eric let out a exhausted and confident breath, the agents had to be impressed by that.


	9. The Scheme

Disclaimer: They still apply as the have before

Disclaimer: They still apply as the have before. Everybody knows that I don't own The Producers or Danny Phantom…I own Eric and his family and friends, that's about it.

Italicized: Singing Bold:  
Singing together  
--

The lights came up on the stage and Danny emerged from backstage, approaching a door that read "Max Bialystock: Theatrical Producer".

"Mr. Bialystock," He said, tentatively opening the door, the stagehands hitting the pulley and sending the cluttered "office/apartment" into the view of the stage lights.

He surveyed the room, which had a couch covered with many newspapers and a laundry line that had numerous pairs of boxers hanging off of them.

"Anybody home?" He asked again, stopping at the couch, "Mr. Bialystock?"

That's when the papers came flying off of the couch, revealing Eric laying there.

"Aah!" Danny screamed.

"Aah!" Eric screamed back, "Who the hell are you?"

Eric threw himself to his feet, as Danny screamed and ran for the door, only to find it was locked. That, or he was pulling when he should be turning. Danny whipped around to find Eric right in his face. He threw himself against the wall, cowering at the sight of an enraged Eric's face.

"Well, who are you?" Eric repeated, getting no response whatsoever, "Speak, dummy. Why don't you speak?"

"Can't," Danny gasped out, "Too scared."

"All right, I'm sorry," Eric said, his face softening considerably before he started to lead Danny from the door, "Watch your step. Now, who are you?"

"Mr. Bialystock, my name is Leopold Bloom. I'm accountant from Whitehall and Marks and I've come to…" Danny's introduction was cut off by a knock at the door and the sound of an old woman shouting,

"Hold Me, Touch Me!"

"Hold Me, Touch Me," Eric said, his facial expression turning into one of sheer terror, "One of my backers."

He grabbed Danny and darted toward the bathroom, shoving him in,

"Now, do me a favor," He shouted, "Go to the bathroom!"

"But, I don't have to go to…" Danny argued, as Eric pushed him harder into the room.

"Try, think of Niagara Falls." Eric countered, trying to shut the door, catching Danny's briefcase in the door jam.

Eric kicked the briefcase and shoved Danny into the room. He turned his attention to the disheveled office, pulling his underwear down from the clothesline and tossing them into the refrigerator, the ominous knocking getting louder and louder.

"In a minute!" He shouted, his voice cracking as he did.

Eric slammed the fridge door shut and ran toward the couch, forgetting that the clothesline was there and meeting the same fate as numerous professional wrestlers, nearly hanging himself and falling to the ground. He sprang to his feet when the knocking continued to get louder with each passing moment. Eric raced over to the bureau, opening and revealing pictures of, at least, a dozen little old ladies.

"Where is Hold Me-Touch Me?" The little old ladies man asked himself, going through the pictures, "Let's see. Kiss Me-Feel Me, Pinch Me-Pinch Me, Lick Me-Bite Me, Suck Me-F…"

He cut himself off mid-name, pulling out the picture of Hold Me-Touch Me, shutting the bureau and shouting, "Here she is! Hold Me-Touch Me!"

Eric turned around and ran toward the door,

"Coming, my darling!" He shouted, placing the picture on his piano and looking at himself in the mirror, his hair was more disjointed than ever.

Thinking quickly, Eric threw the flowers out of a vase and took the water, using it to straighten out his hair. He opened the door, revealing Starr, in a worn, but clean blue gingham gown.

"Hold Me-Touch Me." She said, throwing herself seductively…as seductive as a woman with age makeup and saggy faux-boobs can be, against the door.

"As soon as I close the door." Eric said, closing the door behind him.

He slinked behind Starr, when she pulled a check out of her purse.

"Did you bring the checkie? Bialy can't produce plays without the checkie." He said, snatching at the check.

"But, first," She said, "Can we play one dirty little game?"

Eric sighed heavily, trying to get his courage back, "Why not? So what'll it be, the Debutante and the Delivery Boy? Or maybe the Rabbi and the Contortionist? You like that, mama, keeps you limber."

"I was thinking the Virgin Milk Maid and the Well Hung Stable Boy." Starr countered, either not seeing or ignoring the look of terror in Eric's eyes.

"I don't think I have the strength." Eric choked out.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle." She said, shoving him onto the couch and grabbing her umbrella.

She tossed the umbrella over her shoulders, feigning struggle as she walked in place, groaning,

"Oh dear me, this milk is **so **heavy! I will never make it to the house." She said, dramatically, "You there, Well Hung Stable Boy, can you help me with this milk?"

Eric stood up, grabbing his crotch in a very masculine manner before speaking with a voice that was a few octaves lower than his actual voice,

"Why, of course, young mama," He said, grabbing the umbrella off of her shoulders, "First, I will take your milk. Then I shall take your virginity."

Eric was about to make the final move when Starr grabbed him and threw him back on the couch,

"No, wait a minute I haven't even had my coffee yet." Eric protested, trying to force Starr of him.

"Give it to me, Well Hung!" She shouted, "Give it to me!"

While this was going on Danny exited the bathroom, zipping up his fly,

"You know, you were right. After I started thinking of Niagara Falls, I had no problem."

His eyes widened at the sight before him,

"I'll just be going." He said, pulling his coat over his head and heading toward the couch.

"Give it to me, you animal!" He heard Starr shout and Danny made the mistake of moving his coat away from his eyes.

"Oh my God!" He screamed, causing Eric to scream louder to cover it up.

Danny ran back into the bathroom, where it was kind of obvious to the audience that he was trying rinse out his eyes.

"Send me to the moon!" Starr screamed, quite pleased with her "effect" on Eric.

"Yes, yes, on Thursday," Eric said, practically throwing her off of him, "I'll send you to the moon on Thursday, I may even join you."

Starr refashioned her hat while Eric darted over to her umbrella and lifted her purse off of the table.

"But first, may I please have the checkie?" He asked, his eyes swelling in size again.

Starr grabbed her purse and pulled out the check, waving it in Eric's face,

"Yes, you may. I made it out to the name of the play, _Cash_. That's a funny name, _Cash_."

"Yeah, well, so was _The Iceman Cometh_," He said, grabbing the check from her hand, "Let me see you out, my little sex kitten."

"I'll see you on Thursday, Bialy." She said, barking at him as Eric led her to the door.

He opened the door, practically shoving her out of the room, returning her barks,

"Remember, Thursday!" He shouted, closing the door behind him, "You dirty old buzzard."

That was Danny's cue to open the bathroom door, to see Eric walking back to his desk.

"May I come out?" Danny asked, slipping slowly out of the bathroom when Eric gave a grunt, "Mr. Bialystock, I'm sorry I caught you in the middle of feeling up the old lady.

"Feeling up the old lady," Eric repeated, annoyance clear in his voice, "Thank you, Mr. Tact. May I take your coat?"

"Oh, thank you."

"So, you're an accountant?"

"Yes, sir, I am, sir."

"Then account for yourself!" Eric shouted, throwing the coat across the room, "Why are you looking up little old ladies dresses? Bit of a pervert, huh?"

Eric elbowed Danny in the stomach,

"I know what you're thinking," Eric blurted out before Danny could speak again, "How dare you condemn me without knowing all the facts?"

"No, Mr. Bialystock, I wasn't…" Danny said, sheepishly.

"Shut up!" Eric interrupted, "I'm having a rhetorical conversation. Do you know who I use to be?" He shouted, dramatically.

"Why, yes. Yes. You were Max Bialystock, the King of Broadway."

"No, I'm Max Bialystock…That's right."

"And might I say, Mr. Bialystock, and don't take this the wrong way, but you're not just a dirty old man."

"Thank you."

"You're also a great Broadway producer," Danny continued, "And there's something about me you should know."

Danny took his wallet out of his back pocket,

"When I was a boy, I had the good fortune of being taken to _Bialyhoos of '42."_

This caught Eric's attention, as he stood up from the couch arm,

"_Bialyhoos_?"

"Yes. Yes." Danny said, opening his wallet and pulling out a ticket stub, "I still have the ticket stub. And ever since then, I've had a secret desire to be a Broadway producer."

"A secret desire, huh?" Eric said, "Well, kid. Can I give you some advice?"

"Yes, sir."

"Keep it a secret," Eric said, placing the ticket stub in Danny's pocket, "Do the books, please. Top drawer to the left."

Danny crossed over to the room to the desk, taking the books out of the desk. Meanwhile, Eric opened the glass doors in his office, looking over the veranda's railing.

"Oh God," He groaned at the sight before him, "That's right, baby, when you've got it, flaunt it! Flaunt it!"

Eric reentered the office, where Danny had looked up from the books,

"Mr. Bialystock, may I speak with you for a minute?"

The sound of Danny calling his character's name made his ears perk up and gave him a rather dastardly idea.

"A minute?" He asked, pulling a watch out of his pocket.

"Yes."

"Just one minute?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"I'm glancing at your books…"

"Go!" Eric commanded, hit the timer on the watch.

"I noticed that…"

"You've got 58 seconds left. You just wasted two seconds."

"You're gonna time it?"

"Time is money."

"Yes. Well, I look at your books. I looked at the column that read 'Plays Received'"

"48 seconds. 48 seconds left."

"And I can't make the figures…"

"Hurry! Hurry!"

"Mr. Bialystock, there's a problem with your figures."

"28 seconds left. You're running out of time," Eric said, swinging the watch in Danny's face, "Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock."

"I cannot…I cannot…I cannot…" Danny stammered, hypervenalating, reaching into his pocket,"

"Fifteen seconds," Eric said smugly, "Twelve!"

"I cannot function…" Danny said, pulling a blue cloth out of his pocket and trying to wipe off his brow.

Eric counted down the last 10 seconds, all the while Danny's stammering got worse before he finally said,

"I cannot function under these conditions. You're making me extremely nervous."

"Hey, I'm sorry." Eric said, looking at the cloth, "What is that, a handkerchief?"

"What? This? No, this is nothing." Danny answered, "It's nothing."

"Well, if it's nothing why can't I see it?" Eric asked, grabbing it out of Danny's hand.

This was the final straw, sending Danny out of the chair, his arms outstretched,

"My blanket! My blue blanket! Give me back my blue blanket!" He exclaimed, screaming at the top of his lungs before tossing his arms out again, gibberish flying out of his mouth.

"Here, here, here." Eric said, handing the blanket back.

Danny grabbed the blanket and began to rub his face with it,

"I'm sorry," He said, "It's just that I don't like anyone touching my blue blanket. It's a minor compulsion. I can deal with it if I want to. You see, I've had it since I was a baby and I find it very comforting."

Danny stopped talking, allowing the dumbstruck Eric to move for the first time in the last 30 seconds.

"I need to lie down." Danny said, his eyes rolling up in the back of his head before he crashed to the ground.

Eric looked down at Danny than up at the Heavens,

"They come here. They all come here," He said, "How do they found me?"

The sound of Danny's mumbling interrupted Eric's questions. He climbed over his fallen co-star,

"Hey, kid. Hey, yoo-hoo." Eric said, maneuvering his legs over Danny, standing over him.

Danny's eyes flew open, "Ahh!"

"What's wrong?"

"You're gonna jump on me."

"What?"

"You're going to jump on me."

"No."

"I know you're gonna jump on me and squash me like a bug."

"Calm down."

"Please don't jump on me."

"I'm not gonna jump on you!" Eric screamed, not noticing he had left the floor and was, in fact, jumping.

"Get away!" Danny shouted, jumping to his feet, running away from Eric, who was not far behind.

"Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!"

"Don't touch me! Don't touch me!"

"What's the matter now?"

"I'm hysterical! I'm having hysterics! I can't stop when I get like this."

Danny screamed even louder when he turned to see the skull from Hamlet on the mantle.

Eric ran back to his desk, grabbing a glass and throwing it on Danny.

"I'm wet! I'm hysterical and I'm wet!"

Eric decided to slap Danny. This didn't work out the way he had hoped

"I'm in pain. I'm in pain, I'm wet and I'm still hysterical!"

"Okay. Okay. What can I do? You're getting me hysterical." Eric cried, joining Danny in the mutual blathering.

"Move away from me. You're too close. You frighten me." Danny shouted, shooing Eric away, "Just go over there and sit."

"I frighten you?" Eric asked, sitting back to his desk, "Is this good enough?"

"You still look angry." Danny said.

"Does this help?" Eric asked, flashing a big, crocodile-like smile.

"Yes, thank you." Danny answered, calming down.

"Who's my little accountant?" Eric said in the same as one would talk to a puppy, "Are you my little accountant?"

"I am…I'm the man." Danny said, his hysterics subsiding.

"Are you my little accountant?"

"I am," He said, "Thank you for smiling. It certainly helped."

"Well," Eric said, standing up from his chair, stopping at his bust of Shakespeare, "It's like I always say, 'smile and the world smile's with you.'" He looked over at the bust, "This man should be in a straightjacket. Do you feel better?"

"Yes, thank you. Mr. Bialystock?" Danny said, when he stopped sweating.

"Yes, Prince Mishkin, what can we do for you?" Eric said, smiling for real this time.

"This is hardly the time for levity, Mr. Bialystock." Danny said, taking the conversation back to the books, "I've discovered a serious error with your books."

Eric moved back to the desk, looking at the books while Danny pointed out there error.

"You see, in your last show, _Funny Boy_, you raised over 100,000 dollars, but your show only cost 98,000 dollars. There's over 2,000 dollars unaccounted for." He explained.

"I went to a Turkish bath," Eric said cavalierly, "What'd does it matter? The show was a flop. Bloom, do me a favor? Move a couple of decimal points around. You can do it, you're an accountant. You're part of a noble profession. The word 'count' is part of your title."

"That's cheating."

"It's not cheating, it's charity." Eric cried out, before pointing to his jacket, "You see this stick pin, it was once held a pearl as big as your eye," Eric crossed past the desk, "I used to wear handmade Italian shoes, 500 dollar suits."

He raced to the other side of the desk, his hand on his belt,

"And look at me now. Look at me," He ripped off of the belt, "I'm wearing a cardboard belt."

"And don't forget you're overdue tuxedos." Danny added.

"You watched the first scene, didn't you?"

"No, I heard it. It was kind of hard to miss it, you're very loud."

"This is the theatre, you're supposed to be loud," He sobbed, falling to his knees and grabbing Danny's hand, "You gotta save me, Bloom. I'm reaching out to you. Don't send me to prison. Help me!"

Eric let out a high-pitched sob, burying his head onto the desk, shaking uncontrollably.

"All right, all right. I'll do it." Danny said.

The minute that happened Eric stopped his act and looked up,

"Really?"

"Yes, I'll do it."

Eric turned to the audience, "Wow. I'm so glad he's a C student."

"Let's see, 2,000 isn't so much. I'm sure I could hide it someplace.

"Yeah."

"After all, the IRS isn't interested in a show that flopped."

"Right. Good thinking. You figure it out, I'm going to take a little nap."

Eric laid down on the couch while Danny cooked the books,

"Well, let's see. If we add up these deductions we get…Carry the three, divided by four," He paused for a moment, "Fascinating That's absolutely fascinating. But, under the right circumstances, a producer could make more money with a flop than he could with a hit."

Those famous words aroused Eric and he sat up from his 'nap', listening to Danny's thought.

"If he were certain that a show would fail a man could make a fortune."

"Yes?" Eric said, flinging himself out of the couch and slamming into the ground.

Danny tried to suppress his laughter at the unplanned act,

"Yes, what?" He asked.

"Yes, what you were saying. Keep talking."

"What was I saying?"

"What is this the Juvenile Dementia Hour? You saying under the right circumstances, a producer could make more money with a flop than he could with a hit."

"Well yes, it's quite possible."

"You keep saying it, but you don't say how." Eric said, dramatically.

"Well, it's simply a matter of creative accounting," Danny said, "Let's assume for a moment, you are a dishonest man."

"Assume away." Eric responded casually.

"All right. When you produced your last show, funny boy, you raised 2,000 more than you need. But, you could've raised 1 million, put on your 100,000 flop and kept the rest for yourself."

"But what if the show was a hit?"

"Well, then you would go to jail," Those were the words Eric didn't want to hear, he sat up from his chair and walked to the back of the desk, "You see, rather than 100 of the show, you would sold more than a 1,000. So if the show was a success, there's no way to pay off the backers."

"Right," Eric said, clapping his hands together, "So, in order for our scheme to work, we'd have to find a sure fire flop."

"Our scheme? What scheme?" Danny asked, with an innocence you couldn't fake.

"What scheme?" Eric asked, laughing, "You're scheme you bloody little genius." He said, grabbing Danny's cheeks.

"I meant no scheme," Danny said, smoothing out his cheeks, "I was merely possessing a little academic accounting theory. It was just an idea."

Eric grabbed Danny's shoulders, smiling deviously,

"Bloom, worlds are turned on such ideas."

Danny looked up at him before Eric stepped out into a spotlight.

Eric: Don't you see, Bloom. Darling Bloom, glorious Bloom. It's so simple. Step One: we find the worst play ever written. Step Two: we hire the worst director in town. Step Three: I raise two million dollars...

Danny: Two?

Eric: Yes! One for me, one for you. There's a lot of little old ladies out there. Step Four: We hire the worst actors in New York and open on Broadway.

And before you can say Step Five, we close on Broadway, take our two million and go to Rio.

Danny: Rio? Nah, that'd never work.

Eric: Oh ye of little faith…

Eric stepped onto his chair,

Eric: _What did Lewis say to Clark when everything looked bleak?_

Eric climbed onto the desk,

Eric _What did Sir Edmund say to Tenzing as they struggled toward Everest's peak? What did Washington say to his troops as they crossed the Delaware I'm sure you're well aware...  
_

Danny looked up, impressed at the big production Eric was putting on, and asked,

Danny: What'd they say?

Eric hoped off of his desk, landing in front of Danny,

Eric: _We can do it, we can do it, we can do it, me and you. We can do it, we can do it, we can make our dreams come true_

The sudden closeness gave Danny a near panic attack, he started to run away from his co-star.

Eric: _Everything you've ever wanted is just waiting to be had. Beautiful girls, wearing nothing but pearls caressing you, undressing you and driving you mad_

Eric chased Danny around the office, catching up with him before he could reach the door.

Eric: We can do it, we can do it, this is not the time to shirk. We can do it, you won't rue it, say goodbye to petty clerk…Hi, producer:

Eric extended his hand, shaking Danny's and ruffling his hair,

Eric: _Yes, producer, I mean you, sir, go berserk!_

Eric grabbed Danny's other hand and spun him around the room, launching him onto the couch,

Eric: _We can do it, we can do it and I know it's gonna work! Whatta ye say, Bloom?_

Danny stood up and looked at Eric,

Danny: _What do I say, finally a chance to be a Broadway producer!_

Danny jumped aside, dodging Eric, landing on the steps

Danny: _What do I say? Finally a chance to make my dreams come true, sir! What do I say, what do I say, here's what I say to you, sir..._

Danny raised his finger, getting Eric's hopes up,

Danny: _I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't do it, that's not me I'm a loser, I'm a coward, I'm a chicken, don't you see? When it comes to wooing women there's a few things that I lack._

Beautiful girls, wearing nothing but pearls...Cashing me, embracing me, I'd have an attack

Eric grabbed Danny by the shirt, fury in his eyes,

Eric: Why, you miserable, cowardly, wretched little caterpillar! Don't you ever want to become a butterfly? Don't you want to spread your wings and flap your way to glory?

Danny: NO!

Eric and Danny continued the chase around the office, both singing. I'll leave too the readers imagination to figure out the movements since I only know the movements from the movie and have never seen the stage production,

Eric: _**We can do it…We can do it…We can grab that holy grail! We can do it…We can do it…Drink champagne, not ginger ale…Come on, Leo…Can't you see-o ...**_

Danny: _**Mr. Bialystock…Please stop the song…You've got me wrong…I'll say "so long"…I'm not as strong a person as you think**__  
_

**Mr. Bialystock…Just take a look…I'm not a crook…I'm just a schnook…The bottom line is that I stink! I...can't... Do...it! You see Rio, I see jail!  
**

Eric: _We can do it!_

Danny: _I can't do it!_

Eric: _We can do it!_

Danny: _I cannot, cannot, cannot 'cause I know it's gonna fail  
_

Eric: _We can do it! I know __**it cannot fail**_

Danny: _**It's gonna fail!**_

"Fail? How can it miss? All you need is a little courage," Eric said confidentially, grabbing Danny's head so he would look at him, "Bloom, do you know what you are? You're like a…like a…fountain waiting to explode and shoot into the sky."

Eric paused for moment,

"Good God!" He said, "No wonder the fandom thinks they're gay."

Danny bite his lips and asked, "I'm a fountain?"

"Yes, you're a fountain!" Eric shouted, once again. (Seriously, let's count how many times I write that word in this story), "Don't you realize that there's a lot more to you than there is to you."

Eric stopped talking to think about what he just said.

"Mr. Bialystock, you've made a terrible error in judgment," Danny said, "You've mistaken me for someone with a spine. I'm going back to my job at Whitehall and Marks. Goodbye forever."

Danny ran offstage, leaving Eric to scream,

"Bloom. Bloom, wait a minute. Bloom." Then he thought of something else, "Think about it. You'll never get a cab at this hour."

The beleaguered star of the show fell to his knees and looked up to the Heavens again, his hands clenched in prayer.

"Oh Lord, Dear Lord, I want that money!"

The stage lights went out again, leaving Eric alone on stage, racking up another win for him in the books of the agents, or so he thought.

--

Soulless Warlock: Thanks once again for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. And I was serious when I said let's count the word "shouted", it could be fun. Until next time, this is Soulless Warlock saying Good Day, Good Morning, Good Night and Good Luck to the people of the world.


	10. I Wanna Be A Producer

Disclaimer: Standard Disclaimers still apply as they have always had. Danny Phantom and The Producers are not my property, but Eric and the OCs are.

Everyone remember how the singing works:  
Italicized: Singing  
Bold: Sung in Counterpoint

--

The band played a somber tune as the lights came up to reveal that the stage had now taken the form of Whitehall and Marks. In something that looked like a scene from a Chinese sweatshop, several of the students had assumed the role of accountants, drearily typing in numbers into the giant typewriters, actually old-fashioned calculators, but they didn't know that.

Danny reentered the stage when Mark Mason, a senior known for his comedic performances in various school and community productions, entered from the other side of the stage. Danny was just a few feet away from an empty desk when Mason darted in front of him and yelled out,

"Bloom! Where the devil have you been? You're over one hour late"

"Sorry, Mr. Marks." Danny said quickly, "It won't happen again."

"That's right, it won't," Mason shouted, "Because you're a nothing, a peon, a PA, a public accountant. Whereas I am a CPA, a certified public accountant, the top of the corporate ladder. Someplace you'll never see."

The "accountants" looked up at their screaming "boss", who seemed to sense their curiosity,

"What's the matter?" He yelled, "Never seen anyone humiliated before? Get back to work."

Mason began to walk offstage, before catching the sight of a shaking performer out of the corner of his eye.

"Boo!" He said, laughing off of the stage, leaving the other "accountants" alone. They went back to work and the monotone sound of their calculators created a melody that reflected the drab and dreary setting, their voices singing as one,

Accountants: _Unhappy...unhappy. very unhappy…Unhappy...unhappy…Very very very very very very very unhappy_

The second spotlight hit a desk, where a hulking African-American student was sitting. He sang out, in a voice eerily reminiscent of Paul Robeson in Show Boat

Black Accountant: _Oh, I debits all duh mornin' an' I credits all duh eb'nin until dem ledgers be right_

Danny and the others joined with him in their shared misery

Danny & Accountants: _Until dem ledgers be right _

The sounds of the calculators put Danny in a dream world as he began to sing, the sound of a ding filling the air with each pause

Danny: _I spend my life accounting with figures and such_

Accountants: _Unhappy _

Danny: _To what is my life amounting, it figures, not much_

Accountants: _Unhappy _

Danny: _I have a secret desire, hiding deep in my soul. It sets my heart afire to see me in this role._

The orchestra picked up when Danny picked up the file he had working on and danced toward a filing cabinent. _  
_

Danny: _I wanna be a producer with a hit show on Broadway. I wanna be a producer, lunch at Sardi's every day._

_I wanna be a producer, sport a top hat and a cane. I wanna be a producer and drive those chorus girls insane! _

No sooner had Danny opened the file, than six chorus girls, all dressed in pearls, emerged from the other cabinets, each one more beautiful than the last, except for the sixth. He bounced past each, singing to them, in the back of the stage while the globe in the office was pulled off stage_  
_

_I wanna be a producer and sleep until half-past two. I wanna be a producer and say, "You, you, you, not you"  
_

_I wanna be a producer, wear a tux on op'ning nights! I wanna be a producer and see my name "Leo Bloom" in lights!_

The girls tossed Danny a top hat and cane before leading him up a flight of stairs that the cabinent had been hiding. Danny couldn't help but notice that "Marquee Heaven" was Tucker's handiwork. They looked real, but if one would touch them, they would see it was just an illusion. Something Tucker had managed to steal from Technus in their last encounter.

Chorus Girls: _He wants to be a producer _

Danny: Sell it, girls!

Chorus Girls: _Of a great big Broadway smash_

Danny: Don't forget the balcony!

Chorus Girls: _He wants to be a producer, ev'ry pocket stuffed with cash. He wants to be a producer, pinch our cheeks 'til we cry_

Danny ran around the girls and made their wish his command, pinching their cheeks to each went,

Chorus Girl #1: _Ouch!_

Chorus Girl #2: _Eek!_

Chorus Girl #3: _Ooh! _

Chorus Girl #4: _Oh!_

Chorus Girl #5: _Ahh!_

Chorus Girl #6: _Yes!_

Chorus Girls: _He wants to be a producer with a great big casting couch!_

This began a giant dance sequence that lead Danny down the steps. It was something that I lack the skill to describe in sufficient, but Danny made to the end of the steps with the girls close behind him, singing,

Danny: _I wanna be... _

Chorus Girls: _He wants to be..._

Danny: _I wanna be..._

Chorus Girls: _He wants to be..._

Danny: _I wanna be the greatest, grandest and most fabulous producer in the world_

Chorus Girls: _He wants to be a producer; he wants to dine with a duchess and a duke_

The girls popped the cork off of a bottle of ginger ale, subbing as champagne, and poured it into the glass one had handed Danny

Danny: _I just gotta be a producer, drink champagne until I puke_

Chorus Girls: _Drink champagne 'til he pukes!_

Danny danced closer and closer to his desk, singing triumphantly,

Danny: _I wanna be a producer, show the world just what I've got. I'm gonna put on shows that will enthrall 'em_

Chorus Girls & Danny: _Read my name in Winchell's column!_

Danny: _I wanna be a producer _

One girl wrapped her scarf around Danny's neck before spinning back into his chair and back into reality.

Danny: _'Cause it's everything I'm not_

He looked around, the girls and the grandeur had disappeared and all that was left was the brutal reality of the Whitehall and Marks office. The somber singing was still going on as Danny rejoined this doldrums state

Accountants: _Unhappy...unhappy...So unhappy_

Danny & Accountants: _Very very very very very very very..._

Accountants:.._.sad _

Danny: _I wanna be a producer…_Hold everything! What I am I doing here? Mr. Bialystock was right! There is a lot more to me than there is to me!

He stood up and screamed at the top of his lungs

Danny: Stop the world, I wanna get on!

This scream got the attention of Mason, who reappeared onstage, fuming,

Mark: What it this? Do I smell the revolting stench of self-esteem? Bloom, where do you think you're going? You've already had your toilet break!

Danny turned to face the senior,

Danny: I'm not going to the toilet, I'm going into show business!

Same difference, really? The "accountants" were stunned at this sudden turn of events.

Danny: And Mr. Marks, you are right, you are a CPA. A certified public asshole!

The "accountants" cheered before catching the rage-filled eyes of their "boss"

Danny: I've got news for you. I quit! Here's my visor...my Dixon Ticonderoga number two pencil... and my big finish!

Danny jumped onto his desk and sang out,

Danny: _I'm gonna be a producer,_

_He's gonna be a producer! **Look out Broadway**_

Danny: **Look_ out Broadway, cause here I come_**

Chorus Girls & Accountants: _Broadway, here he comes!_

Danny leapt from desk to desk grabbing his hat and coat and leaving a stunned Mason behind

--

With near record speed the light fell and rose on the next scene, Eric was still on his knees praying, nearly in tears. He was so distracted by this act, he didn't notice Danny had returned,

"Mr. Bialystock!" He shouted, "I'm back! I'm back, I've changed my mind."

Eric put his pinky in his ear, muttering,

"They say I have a volume control problem!"

He looked up at the Heavens,

"You are good!" He said, snidely.

"Who are you talking too? Danny asked.

"No one. Just an old friend. What happened"

"Just this, just this." Danny said, "I said I was afraid to go to jail, but I didn't realize that I was in jail. I've spent my life counting other people's money. People I'm smarter than, better than. When's Leopold Bloom gonna get his share? When it gonna be Bloom's day? I want…I want…"

Danny hopped onto Eric's desk,

"I want everything I've ever seen in the movies!"

Eric laughed in triumphant and said, "And Leo, you're going to get it. Cause…"

Eric: **_We can do it, we can do it_**

Danny: **_I'm gonna be a producer_**

Eric: **_Say good-bye to woe and gloom_**

Danny leapt off of the desk and began to dance through the office, Eric not far behind

Danny: _**I'm gonna be a producer**_

Eric: _**With the millions and the zillions**_

They linked arms, singing to the Heavens,

Both: Up together we will zoom

The two tangoed through the office

Both: _We can do it, we can do it_

Eric: _Every show I touch, I doom_

The looked back at the audience, their voice sounded off in the gym

Both: _We were fated to mated, we're Bialystock and Bloom!_

The lights went out as the duo prepared for the biggest scheme in the history of Broadway.


	11. The Worst Play Ever Written

Disclaimer: Standard Disclaimers still apply as they have always had

Disclaimer: Standard Disclaimers still apply as they have always had. Danny Phantom and The Producers are not my property, but Eric and the OCs are.

--

The lights came back up again on the Bilaystock's office, the sign on the door clearly reading: "Bialystock and Bloom: Theatrical Producers". The office was messier than ever, littered now by pizza boxes and scripts for plays. Danny and Eric sat on the couch and the armchair, reading away. Eric sat up in excitement, reading the first lines of the play,

"Gregor Samsa awoke one morning to discover he had been turned into a giant cockroach," He paused for a moment, throwing it over his shoulder, "No, it's too good."

"But, how could you see me the glass was frosted," Danny read, "Wait a minute! I read this before, what's the title? _The Frosted Glass_. Max, what's the point? We'll never find it."

His exasperated statement was meant by laughter on Eric's part.

"'We'll never find it'," He gasped out, "'We'll never find it', he says."

He fell over, falling to the ground, his body shaking from laughter.

"Read it. See it. Smell it. Touch it. Kiss." Eric said, still laughing, shoving the script in Danny's face when he managed to pull himself up.

"_Springtime for Hitler_," Danny read, "_A Gay Romp with Eva and Adolf Through The Gardens of Berchtesgaden_."

Danny flipped through the script,

"Max, this is terrible." He said, still stunned at the play he was holding.

"Horrible?" Eric shouted, "It's practically a love letter to Hitler."

Those words were met by a stunned shout of disgust in the crowd, most likely coming from Sam's parents, which was countered by a chorus of "Shhs"

"A show like this won't last a single night." Danny concluded.

"A night?" Eric countered, "This show has to close by page 20."

Eric sprang to his feet and ran toward the hat rack near the end of the stage.

"C'mon, we'll get the rights to this play no matter what it takes. Even if we have to pay him." Eric said, grabbing his hat and placing it on his head.

Danny was about to follow suit only catch Eric's curious gaze out of the corner of his eyes.

"Leo, do you know what kind of hat that is?" Eric asked.

"A Broadway producer's hat." Danny answered.

"And are you a Broadway producer yet?"

"Well, no, but Max…"

"You are not a Broadway producer yet," Eric stated, "You are not a Broadway producer until you have produced a show on Broadway."

"Well, I may not be now, but I will be soon cause…"

Eric and Danny: _We're gonna the producers of a great big Broadway flop!_

Eric and Danny stepped out of the room while the stagehands went to work.

--

The stagehands turned the office around to reveal the rooftop of a New York apartment complex. On the roof stood Kwan, dressed in traditional German garb complete with lederhosen. He was standing with his arms behind his back, like a yodeler, as he sang out in a strong baritone, his movements were so camp they would put David Bowie or Freddie Mercury to shame,

Kwan: _Oh, how I miss ze hills und dales und vales und trails of old Bavaria. Oh, it's such bliss to kiss the Miss I miss like this in old Bavaria  
_

_Oh, ze meadows und ze mountains und ze sky, not to mention hordes of brown shirts passing by...bring a tear to every single Nazi eye in old - I'm talking old - Bavaria!_

After he belted out the last note, he turned his attention to the pigeons in the cages. He found the bird he wanted. He took the pigeon out of its cage.

"Hilda, my dear, let me grab you," He said, his German accent almost as perfect as a real Germans', "We have work to do. I have written an important message which must reach Ernst Schlongdorf, 29 West Santiago Boulevard, Buenos Ares, Argentina, AQP."

The robotic pigeon looked up at him confused,

"As quickly as possible!" He yelled, picking the bird up and releasing it, "Fly, Hilda, fly."

The "bird" vanished from sight.

"Hilda, where are you going? Argentina is that way!" He shouted, pointing in the opposite direction.

He turned around and began to feed to feed the others when Eric and Danny entered the scene. Kwan was distracted by the pigeons to notice the duo.

"It's a hunch, but I'm betting this is our man." Eric said.

"Max, he's wearing a German helmet and lederhosen." Danny added, his voice tenser than ever.

"Yeah, I know. Don't notice. Don't notice anything." Eric responded, "Always look straight ahead. Remember, we need that play."

He turned his attention back to Kwan,

"Franz Liebkind?" Eric said.

On those words, Kwan threw himself into cage, his arms and legs spread,

"I was never a member of the Nazi party," He shouted, "I was only following orders. I had nothing to do with the war. I didn't even know there was a war on. We lived in the back, right across from Switzerland. All we ever heard was yodeling."

Kwan began to yodel while Eric and Danny exchanged looks of terror.

"Who are you?" Kwan screamed.

"Mr. Liebkind, we're not from the government. We're producers, Bialystock and Bloom, here to talk to you about you're play."

"My play?" Kwan asked, moving in closer to them.

"Yes." Eric answered, short and to the point.

"You mean, _Springtime for_ You Know Who?"

"That's the one." Eric said.

"What about it?" Kwan asked, curiously.

"We loved it. Didn't we love it?" Eric said, cutting Danny off before he could speak, "We loved it. We think it's a masterpiece."

"We want to put it on Broadway." Danny added.

"Broadway?" Kwan asked, his mood going from frightening to joyous, "O, joy of joys. Dream of dreams I can't believe it. I must tell my birds."

"Tell your birds." Eric said, motioning to the pigeon coop.

"Otto, Bertha, Heinz, Hilda, Wolfgang, Adolf." When he said this to the last pigeon, the bird's wing gave a Nazi salute.

"Do you hear?" He asked, "We are finally going to clear the Fuher's name."

He turned his attention back to Eric and Danny, running back to them.

"You know, not many people know this but the Fuher was a terrific dancer." He said, directly to Danny, who was doing his best not say anything.

"Really?" Eric interjected, "Gee, we didn't know that, did we, Leo?"

"No, no, we sure didn't." Danny said through his teeth.

"That is because you were taken in by the BBC," Kwan said, going back into Nazi mode, "Filthy, British lies! But did they ever say a bad word about Winston Churchill? Churchill!" He let out a disgusted grunt, "With his cigars and his brandy and his rotten paintings. Rotten! Hitler, there was a painter. He could paint an entire apartment in one afternoon. Two coats."

"Yes, yes," Eric said, his voice finally returning to him, he swung past Danny and grabbed Kwan's hand, "Yes, of course he could, Mr. Liebkind and that is exactly why we want to produce your play. To show the world the true Hitler, the Hitler you loved. The Hitler you knew, the Hitler with a song in his heart."

Eric pulled out the contract and opened it in front of Kwan,

"Now, Franz Liebkind, sign here and make your dream a reality." He said, holding out a pen as well.

"Nein." Kwan said.

"Nein?" Eric asked.

"No."

"That's what "Nein" means."

"First, you must prove to me that you believe as I believe by in singing and dancing the Fuhrer's favorite tune: _Der Guten Tag Hop-Clop_!"

Kwan heard all of his pigeons coo and returned to the, laughing at the birds' happiness.

Danny looked at Eric and asked, "_Der Guten Tag Hop-Clop_?"

"_Der Guten Tag Hop-Clop_." Eric repeated.

"Max, I could never sing the Fuher's favorite…" Danny said.

Eric covered Danny's mouth, "Delighted, delighted."

"Song." Danny said, after Eric took his hand off of his mouth.

"Shut up, he's almost ready to see." Eric said.

Kwan walked past them,

"All right, first you must roll up your pants," Kwan ordered.

Eric and Danny ran toward the "Nazi", Eric was the first to start rolling up his pant legs. Danny joined in while Kwan shouted,

"Don't be stingy, show some leg," They finished pulling up their pant legs, "All right, key of E?" Kwan asked.

"Is there any other?" Eric answered.

Kwan reached into his pocket, pulling out a trio of swastikas armbands.

"Put these on." He ordered.

"Never…" Danny said, stopping mid-sentence by Eric's elbows, "Wore one of those before."

They took the armbands and fashioned them onto their arms,

"Hey, look they're reversible." Eric joked.

"Ja, I never noticed." Kwan said, laughing.

"Max, I don't like this." Danny said, "I think we're getting in too deep."

"In too deep?" Eric questioned, "This is nothing, I'll tell when we're in too deep."

Once the armbands were on, Kwan clapped his hands and shouted,

Kwan: Vunderbar! Eins, zwei, drei..._Guten Tag hop hop, Guten Tag clop clop, Ach du lieber und oh boy!_

_Guten Tag clap clap, Guten Tag slap slap, _

Kwan slapped Danny across the face. Eric caught him before he could attack the singing Nazi

Kwan: _Ach du lieber vat a joy! Oh, ve essen und fressen und tanze und trinken. Tanzen und trinken until ve get stinkin!_ Everybody!

They all took formation, bobbing left to right, before singing,

Kwan, Eric & Danny: _Guten Tag hop hop, Guten Tag clop clop..._

The trio began to dosey-do around in circle while Kwan sang,

Kwan: _Guten Tag Meine liebe Schatz. So ve hop our hops und ve clop our clops und ve drink our Schnapps 'til ve plotz!_ Vunderbar! Gentlemen, I like your dancing.

Eric: Thank you.

Kwan: You may produce my play...

Eric: Excellent!

Kwan: ...but only if you vill take the Siegfried Oath.

Danny: Never…

Eric elbowed Danny in the stomach

Danny: Taken that oath before

Kwan: Raise you right index finger and repeat after me.

The duo did so

Kwan: I solemnly svear...

Eric & Danny: I solemnly svear...

Kwan:...to obey the sacred Seigfried Oath...

Eric & Danny:...to obey the sacred Seigfriend Oath...

Kwan:...und...

Eric:...und... (raises his middle finger)

Danny: ...und... (follows en suite)

Kwan:...never, never, never...(wags his finger)

Eric & Danny:...never, never, never... (wag their middle finger)

They returned to their index finger when Kwan turned back to them, obviously catching because of the audience's laughter.

Kwan:...dishonor ze spirit und ze memory of Adolf Elizabeth Hitler!

Eric & Danny: Dishonor the ... Elizabeth?

They looked at Kwan, who explained:

Kwan: Ja. That vas his middle name. Not many people know it, but the Fuhrer was descended from a long line of English queens.

Eric: Really?

Eric & Danny: Adolf Elizabeth Hitler.

Kwan: Gut! So now I sign your contract.

Eric handed him the contract and he signed on the dotted line.

Eric: Ah, you won't regret this. So, thank you, Herr Liebkind.

Eric and Danny took the contract and began to run for the exit.

Kwan: Wait! I want you to remember that the penalty for violating the Sacred Seigfried Oath is dess.

Eric: Dess? Is that any thing like death?

Kwan: (slurring his 's') Yes!

Eric and Danny's eyes widened in horror as they began to step backwards toward the door. Eric whipped around Danny and grabbed the doorknob, which didn't turn.

Eric: Oh my God! We're trapped. Trapped on the roof with a crazy…

Before he could finish his sentence the door opened and he let out a high-pitched, terrified laugh. When the door shut and Eric and Danny were behind, running down the steps, Kwan through himself against it, a smile plastered on his face.

Kwan: What nice guys! Broadway. Wait till they hear about this in Argentina!

He danced back to his pigeons

Kwan: Ach, mein lieblings!_ Ve're winkin und blinkin und clinken und drinken our Schnapps 'til ve plotz! Heil you-know-who!_

He gave another salute as the lights went out.


	12. The Worst Director Who Ever Lived

Disclaimer: I solemly swear that I do not own Danny Phantom or The Producers

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I do not own Danny Phantom or The Producers. Since I'm not any of those things I can only say on the honor pf the Marauders Map that I own my OCs.

--

The stage lights came back up to reveal the stage set home of Roger De Bris. The phone rang and Wesley appeared onstage, his once shaggy black hair looked more like a cereal bowl and was flatter than Amanda Bearse's chest. Gathering the phone from it's receiver, he made the traditional introduction of the "house"

"Hello, the living room of renowned theatrical director Roger De Bris's elegant upper east side town house on sunny Tuesday afternoon in June. Who may I say is calling?"

His smile changed to an expression of rage,

"Listen, you broken down old queen," He shouted, "He was drunk, he was hot, you got lucky. Don't ever call here again!"

"Who was that?" Dash's voice called from offstage.

"Wrong number!" Wesley yelled back his tone returning to that of joy.

The doorbell soon rang and Wesley darted across the stage, doing a pleya before hitting the ground and grabbing his back. He opened the door as Danny and Eric entered.

"Yes?" He asked, holding the 's' sound for a good 30 seconds.

"I…" Eric tried to say only to be cut off by the continuing hissing sound.

The hissing continued and Danny and Eric exchanged looks of confusion. When the hissing stopped, Eric paused for a moment.

"Well, hi there. I am Max Bialystock and this is my associate, Mr. Bloom. We have appointment with renowned theatrical director Roger De Bris." He said, trying to hide his fear of this strange man standing before him.

"Yes, yes, come on in, please." Wesley said, smiling.

"Plus one dead puppy." Eric muttered under his breath when he saw the smile, "Thank you."

Wesley led the duo into the foyer of the house, shutting the door behind them. As he did so, he noticed something that was so shocking that he had to don his eye monocle to make sure he was seeing straight (no pun intended). He crossed in front of Danny and Eric.

"I am Carmen Ghia," He introduced, "Mr. De Bris common law assistant. You are expected."

He clapped his hands together near his open mouth, making a popping noise as he did. There was silence for a moment before he asked,

"May I take your hat, your coat and your swastika?"

Eric and Danny exchanged looks again

"Oh, these," Eric said, pulling his armband off, "We just came from the big rally. Everybody was wearing them."

They tossed their coats, hat and armbands to Wesley while Eric grabbed Danny and pulled him aside.

"Why did you tell me we still had those on?" He asked.

"I didn't notice," Danny answered, "You told to look straight ahead. Remember that?"

"Yes, I remember." Eric said shortly, "All right, let's not fight, okay?"

Eric passed Danny and sat down on the oddly decorated couch, Danny not far behind. Man, I am really writing some naughty lines today. Wesley grabbed the other door, opening it without letting them see inside the room.

"Roger, we're not alone." He said, closing the door behind him.

Eric and Danny were left alone. The former shifted uncomfortably in the seat, reaching under his rump and pulled a lips pillow out that was kissing his ass.

"Here's Roger!" Wesley said, returning back into the room and opening the doors in a dramatic manner.

Eric and Danny stood up to welcome their potential director when Dash entered, soaking in the stage lights like a runway model. And dressed like one as well, in a lovely and glittery bluish silver gown, that was good for all sorts of special occasions complete with a shining pearl necklace. He was waving like a princess. Danny had to step on his own foot to keep himself from laughing, turning back to Eric,

"Max, he's wearing a dress." He gasped out.

"No kidding." Eric retorted, before turning his attention to the task at hand, "Oh, Roger, good to see you again."

"Messieurs Bialystock and Bloom, I presume?" Dash said, 'Forgive the pun."

As he laughed Danny titled his head toward Eric and asked,

"What pun?"

"Shut up, he thinks he's witty."

"This must be fantasy then."

Eric stepped forward, taking Dash's hands like any gentlemen would a lady, "Roger, may I say you look gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous."

"Thank." He said, "By the way, Max, darling, we loved Funny Boy, didn't we, Carmen?"

"Oh, worshipped it." Wesley said.

"_To be or not to be/You mean a lot to me/_" They sang out, Dash snapping his fingers and Wesley dancing in place.

"Show-stopper!" Dash added.

"Fabulous." Wesley interjected.

The three laughed together while Dash titled his head to look at Danny.

"Oh, dear, your Mr. Bloom is staring at my gown." He said.

Danny's eyes widened and he began to stammer, "Oh, Well, I…"

"I should explain," Dash said, his movements were surprisingly effeminate, "I going to the choreographer's ball this evening. There's a prize for best costume."

"We always win." Wesley added confidentially.

"I'm not so sure about this year," Dash said, placing a tiara on his head, "I supposed to be the Grand Duchess Anastasia, but I think I look more like the Chrysler Building."

He placed his hands on his hips and stood up straight. They could tell he was right.

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, without your wig you're only half dressed." Wesley suggested.

"Well, why don't you go upstairs and get it, oh, Wicked Witch of the West?" Dash said, his temper changes were making him seem more like Bi-Polar Bearry than a festive theatrical director.

"If your intention was to shoot an arrow through my heart," Wesley said, tearing up, "Bull's Eye!"

Wesley ran up the stairs, leaving Dash alone with Danny and Eric, he and Dash exchanging angry glares.

"Roger, let's face it. The building is you." Eric interjected, pulling Dash next to him, a stark contrast between Eric's 5'3 frame and Dash's 6'2 frame, "Listen, I know we sent it to you this morning, but did you get a chance to read _Springtime for Hitler_?"

"Read it?" Dash asked, excited, "I devoured it and I found it remarkable, remarkable! I feel it is a very important piece drenched in historical goodies. I for one, for instance, never realized that the Third Reich meant Germany."

Eric looked out into the audience and let out a sigh,

"Yeah, how 'bout that? Then you'll do it?" He asked.

"Do it? Of course not. It's not my kind of thing," Dash said, "I mean, World War Two, too dark, too depressing."

Dash handed the tiara to Wesley, who had just entered the room. And began to sing,

Dash: _The theatre's so obsessed with dramas so depressed; it's hard to sell a ticket on Broadway._

Shows should be more pretty, shows should be more witty, shows should be more... What's the word?

Danny shrugged and answered

Danny: Gay?

Dash: Exactly! _No matter what you do on the stage keep it light, keep it bright, keep it gay! Whether it's murder, mayhem or rage, don't complain, it's a pain, keep it gay!_

Wesley flitted over to Dash sand sang,

Wesley: _People want laughter when they see a show, the last thing they're after's a litany of woe_

The new duo exchanged smiles and belted,

Dash & Wesley: _A happy ending will pep up your play..._

Dash: _Oedipus won't bomb..._

Wesley: _If he winds up with Mom! Keep it gay!_

Dash: _Keep it gay..._

The two pressed their cheeks together, looking like a pair of horny Siamese twins,

Dash & Wesley: _Keep it gay!_

Eric took Dash's hands and gave him a

Eric: Couldn't agree with you more. And you have our blessings, Roger, to make Springtime for Hitler just as gay as anyone could possibly want. So, c'mon, do it for us, please.

Dash: (shakes his head) No, sorry, Max, but it's simply not my cup of tea. Still, fair is fair, perhaps I should ask my production team what they think.

Eric: Your production team, who are they?

Dash: You'll see. They all live here.

Dash whipped around as Eric and Danny sat down.

Dash: (shouting) Guys, come say "Hello" to Bialystock and Bloom!

A young man walked down the stage, dressed as the biker from the Village People, an S&M chain around his chest.

Dash: This is my set designer, Bryan.

Bryan: Hello. _Keep it glad, keep it mad, keep it gay!_

Dash: And here's my costume designer, Kevin.

An effeminate student clad in a purple three piece suit ran down the steps, waving to the quartet,

Kevin: Hello..._Keep it happy, keep it snappy, keep it gay! _

He ran down the steps, joining Bryan at the bottom of the steps, (minds out of the gutter, folks)

Bryan & Kevin: _We're clever, creative; it's our job to see that ev'rything's perfect for Mr. De Bris!_

They ran out of view to make room for a student in a dickie and an ascot, wearing incredible tight pants, exposing a bulge for all the world to see,

Dash: Next, Scott, my choreographer...

Scott: Hi there...

Scott slid down the banister, spun off of the railing and leapt to the ground, almost doing a split when he landed. He stood up and past Eric and Danny, who let out an annoyed grunt when he stopped walking three feet away from Danny's face,

Dash: And, ah, finally, last and least, my lighting designer, Shirley Markowitz.

A young man, dressed in flannel, stuffed shirt.

Shirley: (in a deep monotone) _Keep it gay, keep it gay, keep it gay_

Dash: Now, they've all read Springtime. What do you think it needs, fellows?

Each member of the crew jumped onto the couch,

Bryan: _It needs glamour_

Scott: _And glitz_

Kevin: _It_ _needs sequins_

Shirley: And tits

Eric pulled Danny off of the couch,

Eric: Leo, Leo, I think we're loosing them. Go say something nice to Roger. He think he likes you.

Danny looked over at Dash and back at Eric

Danny: (stammering) But, Max…

Eric: Go on, it's just showbiz.

Danny walked over to Dash, who was getting the final touches put his costume,

Danny: Mr. De Bris? Roger? Roger, I think your gown is very stunning.

Dash pushed Wesley aside, moving closer to Danny,

Dash: Why, thank you, Mr. Bloom. Leo.

He stuck his head out and sniffed Danny,

Dash: What is that enchanting cologne you're wearing?

Danny: Me? I'm not wearing any cologne.

Dash: You mean that smell is you? (stunned) Oh, God. If I could bottle you I'd shove you under my armpits everyday.

There was a silence. Danny took that opportunity to see if the blue blanket was really as comforting as Gene Wilder and Matthew Broderick made it look in the movies. He walked over to Eric,

Danny: Max, we never should have started this. I think we're getting in too deep.

Eric: Be careful with what you say in this scene. Besides, this is nothing, I'll tell you when we're in too deep.

When he said those words, he grabbed the loose side of the blanket and wiped off his forehead. Meanwhile, Wesley and the production team had congregated on the stairs,

Wesley: _And, so, the rule is when mounting a…play_

Dash joined them by the steps,

All: _Keep it funny, keep it sunny, keep it gay._

Danny: What do we do now?

Eric: Relax. Watch this.

His words came in handy when Dash got in face, with a red wig on. Eric took his costar's hand,

Eric: Roger, listen. I think that Springtime for Hitler would be a marvelous opportunity for you. I mean, up to now, you've always been associated with, dare I say it, frivolous musicals.

Dash: You're right. I've often felt as though I've been throwing my life away on silly little entertainments. Dopey showgirls in gooey gowns.

He began to dance in place, clearly annoyed,

Dash: Two-three-kick-turn! Turn-turn-kick-turn!

Wesley: Oh, Roger.

Dash: It's enough to make you heave. Nonetheless, sorry, Max. I just couldn't do Springtime for Hitler

Eric: Why not? Think of the prestige.

Dash: No.

Eric: Think of the respect.

Dash: No, no, no.

Eric: Think of ... the Tony!

The entire team hopped off of the steps, Wesley twirling a mirror, reflecting light off of it,

Wesley & The Team: _Tony...Tony...Tony...Tony...Tony!_

Dash: Ngaaaaaahhhhh!

Dash collapsed onto a nearby chair,

Eric: What's the matter?

Danny: Is he all right?

Wesley: He's having a stroke...

Eric & Danny: What?

Wesley: (enthusiastically)...of genius!

Dash: I see it! I see it! At last. The chance to do something important!

Wesley: _Roger de Bris presents History!_

Dash sprang to his feet,

Dash: Of course that whole second act has to be rewritten. They're losing the war? Excuse me. It's too downbeat.

Wesley skipped behind him,

Wesley: _Roger de Bris presents History!_

Dash paused for a moment before speaking,

Dash: But maybe...it's a wile idea, but it just might work..._I see a line of beautiful girls dressed as storm troopers, each one a gem. With leather boots and whips on their hips, it's risqué, dare I say, S & M!_

Wesley & The Team: _Love it!_

Dash: _I see German soldiers dancing through France, played by chorus boys in very tight pants and wait, there's more - they win the war! _

Eric threw his arms up in victory, getting an odd look from Danny. Dash, meanwhile, had hoisted up his dress and began to dance toward the two,

Dash: _And the dances they do will be daring and new turn-turn-kick-turn, turn-turn-kick-turn one-two-three-kick-turn! Keep it sassy, keep it classy, keep it..._

Dash fell back into the chair. Eric darted over and shouted,

Eric: That is brilliant. Brilliant! Roger, I speak for Mr. Bloom and myself when I say that you are the only man in the world who can do justice to Springtime for Hitler. Will you do it, please?

Danny: Please.

Dash: Wait a minute. This is a very big decision. It might effect the course of my entire life. I shall have to think about it...I'll do it.

Eric fainted, but didn't hit the ground with Danny there to catch him

Dash: _I'll do it!_ Sabu, champagne!

An Indian (the dot kind, not the "how" kind) enterted the room, dressed in a Ghandi diaper, holding with a bottle and glasses. The entire room erupted into dance while the remaining members of the Village People ran down the steps,

Dash, Wesley & The Team: _If at the end you want them to cheer: Keep it gay, keep it gay, keep it gay. Whether it's Hamlet, Othello or Lear: Keep it gay, keep it gay, keep it gay_

Eric sat up and joined in the festivities, grabbing a glass of "champagne",

Wesley: _Comedy's joyous, a constant delight, dramas annoy us..._

Danny danced backwards into "Sabu's" crotch, something he didn't realize until he looked behind and saw him smiling,

Dash & Wesley: _...and ruin our night._

Dash, Wesley & The Team: _So keep your Strindbergs and Ibsens at bay..._

Dash: _I'll sign..._

Kevin: _Sign..._

Bryan: _Sign..._

Scott: _Sign..._

Wesley: _Sign..._

Shirley: _Sign..._

Eric & Danny: _Sign..._

Dash took out a pen and signed the contract,

Dash: _Roger Elizabeth De Bris!_

Eric and Danny looked at each other and chortled,

All: _Keep it gay!!_

The production team jumped out, Wesley in the lead,

Wesley: Conga!

They all began to conga across the stage,

All: A_nd, so, the rule is when mounting a play, keep it gay, keep it gay, keep it gay!_

Danny followed after, a Cherokee Indian beckoning him to grabbed his waist, but Danny kept a safe distance as the stage lights went out.

--

Well, Ladies and Gents, Sam makes her onstage debut in the next chapter.


	13. Some Swedish Help and Little Old Ladies

Disclaimer: I hate writing these damned things, I don't own jack!

--

The lights went up on the "Bialystock and Bloom" office. Eric jumped through the door, clicking his heels in victory. He pulled the contracts out of his pocket.

"Exclusive rights to the worst show in the history of Broadway and signed contract with the worst director who ever lived." He laughed, soaking in his victory, "We're in business."

"And what a business," Danny said, following after Eric, wearing a pink boa and Dash's tiara, carrying a glass with him, "In the same day I've taken the Siegfried Oath and danced a conga with a cop, a sailor and an extremely friendly Cherokee Indian."

"Yeah," Eric said, while Danny got rid of his gifts, "It's not easy being a Broadway producer, but together we'll make it."

Eric put out his hand to shake,

"Partners, Leo. Partners all the way and nothing or no one will ever come between us."

"Nothing or no one, Max." Danny repeated, shaking his partner's hand.

No sooner had he said that, there came a knock at the door.

"Come in." They both said.

The door opened and Sam entered the stage, wearing a white coat, gloves and a blonde wig. Basically, if she could see herself in the mirror, she would hunt down and kill everyone involved in the production.

"Bialystock and Bloom?" She questioned in a Swedish accent, before speaking in Swedish.

"What?" Danny asked.

"Oh, excuse me." She said, before speaking Swedish again, "Costing today?"

"Costing?" Danny questioned, turning to Eric and asking him, "Costing?"

"Costing?"

Then it clicked,

"Casting!" They shouted together.

"Oh, no, miss. We're not casting today." Danny said, moving toward Sam, "You see, we don't even know when we're…"

Eric, on the other hand, was darting toward Sam. Shutting the door behind her, he grabbing Sam and began to move toward the steps.

"Casting, yes, we just started casting today." Eric interjected, allowing Sam to find her way toward the couch, "Yes, yes."  
"We're casting?" Danny asked, confused at this new turn of events.

"Yes, we're casting," Eric said, his jaw clenched together, moving in closer to Danny, "If you don't mind, just once in my life, I'd like to see somebody on that couch who's under 85."

Eric tried to straighten his hair and practically glided over to Sam,

"He is good," Danny said to the audience, "Just last week, he wanted nothing to do with her playing this part."

Eric shot a "Curly-esque" glare and growl at Danny before turning his attention back to Sam.

"Now, what is your name, my dear?" He asked, his swarthy Latin charm turned up to the highest degree.

**"**My name is Ulla Inka Hanson Benson Yanson Tallen Hallen Swadon Swanson." Sam said, smiling.

"What is your first name?" Eric asked, cocking his eyebrow at her.

"Oh that was my first name. Would you like to hear my last name?" She said.

"We don't have the time. We'll just call you Ulla." Eric said, laughing with her, "So, Ulla, what do you do?

"Ulla sing and dance."

"Oh, yeah."

"You want Ulla make audition?" She asked, clearly not fazed by the dirty mind of the lead.

"Oh, no, miss," Danny said, trying to keep the show at a PG-13 rating, "That won't be necce…"

"It will be very nece…" Eric said, cutting him off, "Extremely nece."

He turned back to Sam,

"Please, please, make audition. Make audition all over the office." He said, sitting down, "What are you going to sing?"

"Well, yesterday, when I was stepping out of a big, white stretch limo a crazy man yelled something out the window that inspired this song."

She placed her finger on the piano, playing a bar, and sang,

Sam: _When you got it, flaunt it, step right up and strut your stuff. _

Eric immediately recognized the statement,

Sam: _People tell you modesty's a virtue, but in the theatre modesty can hurt you  
_

The duo fell onto the opposite sides of the couch, trying to get a better view of Sam.

Sam: _When you got it, flaunt it, _

Sam pulled the jacket, revealing a white dress that stopped at her thighs,

Sam: _Show your assets, let them know you're proud. Your goodies you must push, _

She placed her hands on the couch and leaned over, giving Danny and Eric a decent view, before turning around shaking her rump,

Sam: _Stick out your chest, shake your tush. When you got it, shout it out loud_…Now Ulla dance.

Her movements were very static before she started to jump into the air, leaving Danny's jaw on the floor and Eric laughing with delight. Sam danced around the coffee table and sat down in between them,

Sam:_ When you got it, show it, put your hidden treasures on display. _

She spun toward Danny's direction, crossing her legs as she did, not noticing Eric was eyeing her breasts until she turned toward him. She grabbed his chin and moved his head toward her eyes,

Sam: _Violinists love to play an E-string, but audiences really love a G-string _

She circled the couch, running her hands across Eric's chest, him sputtering like Al Bundy watching an aerobics class.

_When you got it, shout it! Let the whole world hear vat you're about. Clothes may make the man, all a girl needs is a tan. When you got it, let it hang out! _Remember when Ulla danced?

Eric and Danny: Yeah!

Sam: Ulla dance again!

Eric: (joyously) Ulla dance again!

This time her movements were more fluid. Eric practically barked when Sam pulled off her scarf and ran up it over his face. She stopped at Danny, wrapping the scarf around his head and pushing him into Eric's arms. Sam sat on the chair.

Sam: _When I was just a little girl in Sweden, my thoughtful mother gave me this advice._ _If nature blesses you from top to bottom, show that top to bottom, don't think twice._

She sprang off of the couch and ran for the desk, hopping onto it.

Sam: Now Ulla belt…_Don't think twice!_

Danny and Eric fell back when she belted out that line,

Sam:_ When you got it, share it, _

She wiggled her finger at the duo, who were on their feet and circling the desk,

Sam: _let the public feast upon your charms. People say that being prim is proper, \_

She flung herself across the desk, her leg resting on Danny's lap as she sang to Eric,

Sam:_ But ev'ry showgirl knows that prim will stop her _

She grabbed Danny by his collar, singing to him,_  
_

Sam:_ If you got it, give it, _

She spun around on the desk, flipping backwards on to the ground. Sam did a split when she landed.

Sam:_ Don't be selfish, give it all a-way. _

She let herself fall completely to the ground, looking up at Danny and Eric

Sam:_ Don't be shy, be bold 'n' cute, show the boys your birthday suit. _

She stood up, seductively dancing toward Danny, grabbing the scarf, twirling Danny around. He ran toward the table that Sam was dancing on. Eric and Danny circled the table as she hit her big finale.

Sam: _When you got it, if you got it, once you got it, shout out hooray!_

Sam spun off of the table, joining Eric and Danny on the couch. The two men panted, trying to get their breath back,

"Okey dokey, you like it?" Sam asked.

"Like it?" Eric asked, "I want you to know, my dear, that even though we're sitting down, we're giving you a standing ovation."

Eric and Danny crossed their legs uncomfortably. Eric grabbed Danny's arms, squealing,

"She's in the show."

He and Sam hopped up in down while Danny thought for moment, tapping Eric on the shoulder.

"Wait, wait, Max, we don't even know if there's a part for her in the show." Danny said.

Eric laughed, turning back to Sam, "Would you excuse me, my dear?"

He grabbed Danny, pulling him to the side,

"Bloom, must I teach you everything? There is always a part in the show for the producer's girlfriend." Eric said.

"But, Max, we don't even know when we start rehearsal." Danny argued.

"So what? So what?" Eric said, rage filling his voice, "We're producers, aren't we? So, until she goes into the show, she can work for us here. Because we need, nay, we deserve to have ourselves…"

Sam passed them by,

"Deserve by a gorgeous Swedish secretary/receptionist." Eric finished

"But, Max, a secretary that doesn't speak English? What will people say?" Danny asked.

"They'll say woo-wah-woo-wah-wee-woo-wah," Eric said, "Offer her the job, please."

Danny turned around and cleared his throat,

"Just a moment, miss," Danny said, getting Sam's attention, "We have a position for you."

"As a matter a fact, we have several positions for you." Eric added.

"Until the show gets going, we can offer you a job here as a secretary/receptionist."

"Secretary/receptionist?" She questioned, "Okey slash dokey. I can do that."

Sam ran off toward Eric's desk. She sat on the desk, taking the phone,

"Answer telephone. Bialystock and Bloom? Bialystock and Bloom?" She said, alternating her legs.

"Smart as a whip." Eric said, happily, "You're hired."

Sam happily hopped off of the desk and into Eric's arms, hugging him. When she tried to pull away, Eric pulled her back, resting her head near her breasts. She moved in to hug Danny,

"Oh, well, I don't…" He was cut off by Sam's arms, making a sound that sounded like gibberish, "Well, secretary/receptionist and maybe you could tidy up around here a little bit."

"Tidy up? Tidy up. Such a funny word," Sam said, "What means 'tidy up?'"

"You know, clean?" Danny said.

"Make look nice." Eric said.

"Oh yeah, Ulla can make 'tidy up'." She answered.

"So what time can you get here?" Danny asked.

"Well, Ulla wake up every morning at five AM. From five to seven, Ulla exercise. From seven to eight Ulla take long shower. From eight to nine Ulla eat big Swedish breakfast. Many different herrings. From nine to eleven, Ulla practice her singing und her dancing. And at eleven, Ulla like to have sex. So, what time should Ulla get here?"

"Eleven!" Eric and Danny said together.

"Good! Ulla will come at eleven!" Sam said, pretending she missed the double entendre.

Eric's head dropped into his hands and cried, "Ulla will come at eleven..."

"God dag min vannina!" Sam said, before opening the door.

"God dag min vannina... ninna..." Eric and Danny minced, trying to say good-bye.

"God bless America!" She said, leaving

"God bless Sweden!" Eric moaned, "You know maybe we're in luck that it was

Sam and not Paulina playing the part. I would've fainted half way through the song."

Danny rested his head against the door.

"Oh, Max," He said, "The most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I've never felt this way before. It's like a volcano erupting inside of me, like hot lava rising higher and higher. What is that, Max, what is it?"

Eric shrugged his shoulders and blurted out, "It's called an errection. Either that or malaria."

Danny's jaw dropped in shock, but Eric patted him on the shoulders,

"But, don't worry, they have shots for everything these days."

Eric walked back to his desk and over to his safe.

"Come here, I want to show you something." He said, bidding Danny over to the safe.

He opened the safe, nothing was in it.

"What do you see?"

"Nothing."

"Exactly. But, now that we have our sure fire flop it's going to be our job to fill that safe with 2 million." Eric explained.

"2 million? Gee, how do we put in?"

Danny's words caused Eric to slip and fall onto the ground, catching himself on the desk. He pulled himself to his feet, a smile on his face.

"Bloom, let me explain to you the two cardinal rules of being producer. One: Never invest your own money in the show."

"And the other?"

"Never invest your own money in the show!" Eric yelled, "Get it?"

"Got it."

"Good."

"Well, then how do we raise the money?"

"How? I'll tell you how." Eric said, moving toward the bureau, opening it and giving danny and the audience their first real view of the pictures of the old women inside, "From my investors. Hundreds of little old ladies all looking to Max Bialystock for one last thrill on their way to the cemetery."

He grabbed Danny's arm and began to lead him out of the office.

"So, in the next few days, you shall see very little of me. And right now, I would like to see very little of you," Eric explained, "Scram, while I get myself ready. For Max Bialystock is about to launch himself into little old lady land."

He closed the door, Danny walking out while an opening line of the next song began to play,

Eric: _The time has come to be a lover from the Argentine, to slick my hair down with Brilliantine and gargle heavily with Listerine_

He took swig of his mouthwash, the taste getting to him,

Wow! _It's time for Max to put his backers on their backs and thrill them with amazing acts. Those aging nymphomaniacs..._ Ah-ah-ah!

Eric walked behind a curtain, wearing a blue three-piece suit, and emerged wearing a more casual red suit, banging his chest. He grabbed a changing doll, using it as his dance partner, hoping onto the wheels,

Ah-ah-ah! _They were helpless, they were hopeless, then along came Bialy! They were joyless, they were boyless, then along came Bialy!_

He let go of the doll, sending it careening onto the balcony. He turned to the piano, playing a few bars

Eric: _They're my angels, I'm their devil and I keep those embers aglow. When I woos 'em, I can't lose 'em. 'Cause I cast my spell 'n' they start yellin' 'Fire down below!'_

_They were listing, they were sinking, then along came Bialy! They were desp'rate, they were drinking, then along came Bialy!_

He grabbed his hat and tossed it up into the air

Eric:_ So romantic, they were frantic, then their prayers were heard up above! Heaven sent them their Bialy! I'm the celebration of love!_

He caught his hat as he walked out the door, riding the set piece around while the stagehands spun it around, revealing a cadre of Casper High students dressed as little old ladies. They all sang out,

Little Old Ladies: _We were helpless, we were hopeless, then along came Bialy!_

Starr, Ashley, and Valerie all stepped pit from the crowd,

Starr: _Life had passed us by and love had stolen away_

Valerie: _At the end of our rope, we'd given up hope of one last roll in the hay_

Ashley: _Discarded dolls, abandoned wrecks_

All Three: _Condemned to a life of sitting and knitting. When all we really wanted was ... sex!_

Eric popped out from behind them, taking Starr by the arm,

Eric: Ah, did you bring the checkee, my little turtledove?

Starr: Yes, but first, Bialy, can we please play one dirty little game?

She grabbed at his pants, but Eric hopped back,

Eric: Here in broad daylight?

Starr: It'll just be a quickie.

Eric: Okay, what, what?

Starr: Let's play the Distracted Tourist and the Ever-Watchful Orangutan.

Eric: Oy, are you trying to kill me? Please, I'm exhausted. Let's play one game with absolutely no sex.

Starr: What?

Eric: How 'bout the Jewish Princess and Her Husband.

Little Old Ladies: _So romantic, we were frantic, then our prayers were heard up above! Heaven sent us our Bialy! He's the celebration of love!_

With those words all the girls began to do a very elaborate dance using their walkers as their taps. Much like the "I Wanna Be a Producer" number, I lack the sufficient skill to describe this sort of elaborate action without at least five extra eyes. So, I can just say the dancing rocked. Eric, meanwhile, popped out the crowd of girls, shouting,

Eric: Fire down below!

Little Old Ladies: _We were listing, we were sinking, then along came Bialy! We were desp'rate, we were drinking, then along came Bialy! __So romantic, we were frantic, then our prayers were heard up above! It's Bialy! Hail, Bialy! _

Eric began to procure money from the three lead ladies

Little Old Ladies:_ He's the culmination, the restoration, the consummation, the titillation, ejaculation. He's the celebration of love..._

Eric pushed the closet one, who was trying to make her move, knocking all the girls down in a domino effect, grabbing their checks as they fell. This created a zig-zag effect, leading Eric to Danny, who was waiting by the theatre, which could now be seen on stage.

Eric: Bloom...Bloom!

Danny: What, Max, what?

Eric: I've done it! I've done it! Look, we got all the money. Now all we have to do it put on the biggest flop in history!

Danny: That's great!

Eric & Danny: _We can do it, we can do it, we can make a million bucks!_

A new spotlight hit Sam, who was holding a phone,

Sam: _Bialystock and Bloom, Bialystock and Bloom! The show's a go!_

Dash and Wesley reappeared on the stage, their team behind them,

Dash & Wesley: _**He's raised the money, we're on our way. Keep it gay, keep it gay, keep it gay. We have our backing, oh, what a day. Keep it gay, keep it gay, keep it gay**_**  
**

_**Wonder of wonders, we have all our cash. Barring all blunders, we should have a **__**smash! We know that...we can do it!**_

Dash, Wesley & The Team: _**Gay, gay, gay, gay...Gay, gay, gay, gay... Gay, gay, gay, gay**_

Eric & Danny: _**We can do it! We can do it! We can do it, we can make a million bucks! Ev'rything we've ever wanted is set to come our way. **_

_**We know that...we can do it! We can make it, we won't fake it, we were fated to be mated..**_**.**

Sam: _**Bialystock and Bloom...Bialystock and Bloom...Bialystock and Bloom! And Bloom! Bialystock and Bloom! And Bloom! Bialystock and Bloom...**_

Kwan entered the stage, belting out his part of the song, joining the swell,

Kwan: _**Deutschland, Deutschland, uber alles. Alles in der welt! Deutschland, Deutschland, uber alles Alles in der welt!**_

Little Old Ladies: _**Then along came Bialy! We were desp'rate, we were drinking, then along came Bialy!. Bialy was romantic, our pulse became so frantic. It's Bialy! Hail Bialy!**_

Sam & Kwan: _Bialystock and Bloom..._

Sam, Kwan, Dash, Wesley & The Team: _Bialystock and Bloom..._

Eric, Danny, Sam, Kwan, Dash, Wesley & The Team: _Bialystock and Bloom!!_

Eric and Danny ran in between the entire cast and chorus

Eric & Danny: _We can do it..._

All Except Eric & Danny: _They can do it..._

All:_ Say goodbye to woe and gloom_

Eric & Danny: _We can do it..._

All Except Eric & Danny: _Nothing to it..._

All: _Can't you hear that bing-bang-boom!!_

All except Eric & Danny: _With their brilliance, their resilience, up together they will zoom!_

Eric threw his arm around Danny

Eric & Danny: _We can't miss!_

All except Eric & Danny: _They were fated to be mated, they're Bialystock and Bloom!_

And with that, Act One came to a dramatic end, the lights went out and intermission began.

--

Holy Crap! This took me forever to write. I hope you all enjoyed it, because I am exhausted. By the way, if anyone has a problem with getting some of the references, tell me and I'd be more than happy to explain them.


	14. Intermission

Disclaimer: I've said it time and time again: I own nothing, zip, zero, zilch

A/N: To Nicole, Eric did make that comment about Paulina out loud. There are two reasons for this. The first: He's been improvising a lot during the show. The second: He's not attracted to Sam, but he is to Paulina, so if Sam's performance made him sweat bullets, Paulina's may have knocked him out.

--

The cafeteria loaded up with the cast and company, Ms. Charles not far behind.

"That was phenomenal." She shouted, patting various cast members on the back as she walked through the crowd.

Eric flopped down into a chair, wiping his brow with his sleeve. He looked down and saw that the stage makeup had rubbed off.

"Oh great, Audrey, Audrey?" He shouted, getting Ashley's attention.

"Sorry, Diva, but my sister is in the audience and can't hear you." Ashley said, "Great job out there, by the way"

"Thanks, think I was a little too theatrical?" Eric asked, as Ashley hugged him.

"The day you're not theatrical at all is the day I start to worry that something is really wrong with your brain." She said, bracing herself as Eric's grip got tighter.

--

"This show is an abomination!" Jeremy Manson shouted at Lancer, who was trying to check up on the cast in the cafeteria.

"How could you possibly allow children to act in a such a sordid show?" Pamela Manson shouted, her voice at a near Helen Lovejoy-esque tone, "There are jokes about sex, Nazis, and…The love that dares not speak it's name. Decent people do not speak of such things."

"What? Jokes about gay people?" They heard Martin ask.

Pamela began to hyperventilate at the very mention of the word. She reached into her purse and pulled out a paper bag, breathing into it.

"Now look what you've done." Jeremy shouted, turning his attention to Martin and his friends, "You've upset my wife with your loose morals."

"Loose morals?" Jack asked, "We're trying to enjoy the show."

"You call this a show?" Jeremy asked, "Theatre is an art form, to show the world as it should be. Not to teach children that it's okay to be loose, or larcenous, or to worship the greatest war criminals of our time."

"Excuse me." Elliot said, finally looking up at the arguing parents.

He stood up and Jeremy got a look at the man's full height. He was a thin, 6'5, and paler than anyone he had ever met, including his daughter.

"And who are you?" Jeremy said, helping his wife back into her chair.

"My name is Elliot Ryan." He said, putting his hand out.

"Oh, so you're the father of that little leach."

"Yes, and please, don't call my son names," Elliot said, his tone calm and cold, "It may be funny when his friends or family call him that, but it isn't when total strangers do so."

Jeremy looked into the man's eyes, they were the coldest blue eyes he had ever seen.

"So, I suggest you sit down and watch the show," Elliot continued, "Because you maybe surprised that Bialystock and Bloom learn a valuable lesson."

Jeremy slipped back into his seat, terrified at the figure, whose tone had remind the same level pattern throughout his speech, and retrieved his wife's smelling salts. Elliot, meanwhile, sat back down next Lizzie.

"Can you show me how to do that?" Maddie asked, "I've been looking for non-violent methods of handling them for years."  
"I can give you a few pointers after the show." Elliot said, a smile spreading across his face.

He turned to Ida, who was trying her best to suppress a laugh at the sight of her son finally getting the reality check she had been trying to give him since he joined Parent Television Council when Sam was only three days old.

"Sorry about that, Madame." He said.

"No need to apologize, young man, my son has needed something like that for years." She said, patting Elliot's hand.

--

Danny was finding a chair, for a character who's entire performance was based entirely on reactions in the first act, he was worn out. Tucker rounded a corner, a smile plastered on his face.

"Danny? That was incredible." He said, "What'd you think of Marquee Heaven?"

"I figured that was your handy work." Danny answered, the two pounding their fists together.

"And in the next act, well…I think it's kind of funny." Tucker said.

"Tucker, how many times do I have to tell you, Sam and I are just friends," Danny said, repeating the same refrain while riding up that River in Egypt, "And the kiss we have to do in the next act is just that, an act."

"I wasn't gonna say that, dude, I was just gonna that the fake-out make-outs were gonna finally come in handy." Tucker said, implying something else entirely.

"I have to talk to Sam about that anyways." Danny said, standing up and leaving his friend alone.

"Well, you can lead a horse to water," He said, continuing the cliché-fest, before turning his attention to the chorus girls.

--

Around the same time, the girls changing room had been emptied out, save Sam. She was putting the finishing touches on the dress so it would actually fit her and she would not have to stuff her bra to get the full effect.

"That won't work." An obviously male voice said, causing Sam to jump out of her seat, covering herself.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" She shouted at Wesley, whom had his eyes covered.

"Well, I couldn't help but notice that the changing room had conveniently empty and I wanted to talk to you." He said.

"And doing a little something called, waiting, was too much for you?" She shouted.

"Sam, calm down, I haven't seen anything."

"That's not the point, you're violating my privacy."

"Look, I'm sorry about that," Wesley stated," But I had to say something

He turned around and made a motion with hand,

"Finish changing." He said.

"What did you mean when you said 'that won't work'?"

"Well, Ulla is supposed to be well-endowed, and you are, forgive me for being crass, but you're not."

Sam growled at Wesley, before she decided to use the situation to her advantage. She put the dress back on, but not her shoes, using the silence of her bare feet to sneak up on Wesley. Somehow, though, Wesley preempted her attack with a pre-preemptive strike. He kissed her, much like Eric had done to Ashley, only an hour or so earlier.

And, in a conveniently placed plot-related twist, Danny opened the door and witnessed the event. He practically ripped the doorknob of when he saw it and turned on his heels, leaving Wesley and Sam alone.

Had Danny stuck around for the remainder of the fireworks, he would've seen Sam slap Wesley across the face.

"Do you what the word 'no' means?" She asked.

"Oh, C'mon!" Wesley yelled, "Why not throw caution to the wind, you're attractive, I'm attractive?"

"First of all, I'm not that kind of girl, and second, you're not my type." Sam countered.

"And the clueless sons of ghost hunters are your type?" He asked, smugly.

"What? What are you talking? Danny and I are just friends."

"Please," Wesley scoffed, "The entire school has already figured out you to are retarded for each other. We even have pools set up for when you finally get together."

"You have what going?" She stammered.

"Pools, you know each member picks a date and then whoever guessed the closes gets all the money."

"I know what a pool is, you jackass, but why would they even do that?"

"Well, next to ghost attacks, this school is pretty boring, so we watch peoples' love lives."

"That's disgusting."

"And that is why I'm here," He said, "I think it's disgusting too. Plus, I think you're very lovely and deserve more than Fenton could ever give you."

"Wesley, you seem sweet, but you're not my type." She said, pushing him out of the room.

"Okay, okay," He muttered as the door closed behind, "You're playing hard to get. Well, my dear, Wesley Wells does fold so easily."

--

"C'mon, everyone, it's time for act two." Ms. Charles shouted, getting the attention of the cast.

The all darted toward the stage entrance, the leads all lagging behind. Ashley was putting the finishing touches on Eric's makeup job while Danny lingered further back, clearly pissed off at somebody. And think of the devil and she appears, Sam came running up behind him.

"What's with you?" She asked, having not seen him during her and Wesley's little indiscretion.

"Nothing is with me." He said, walking off and entering the stage.

--

Hope y'all enjoyed intermission.


	15. That Face

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or The Producers

--

The lights came up on the stage once more, but this time everything in the "office" was white. Sam stood on a later putting the finishing touches on the walls. The door opened and Eric and Danny entered the office, discussing their plans for the day,

"And we've gotta make the next payment on the theater at 3:00 or else…" Eric stated, before looking around the office, "Sorry, wrong office."

"Bialystock, Bloom," Sam called after them, "Max, Leo."

The door opened slowly while they surveyed the state of their "office". They looked from left to right, taking it all in.

"Ulla?" They asked together.

"Ja." Sam responded

"What happened to the office?" Eric asked.

"Like you tell Ulla 'tidy up'."

"Tidy oop is more like it." Eric said, "Well, where did you find time to do all this?"

"Intermission."

The duo both tried not to laugh when Eric broke the silence,

"Well, it's almost three. I gotta get down to the Shubert and make that payment." Eric said, walking over to the safe, "You make sure the contracts are all signed."

He examined the lock, stopping to rub his eyes and groaned,

"She painted over the numbers." He moaned to himself, opening the safe.

Meanwhile, Sam was shooting Danny a flirtatious glance, all the while Danny was fighting to stay in character, while she spoke Swedish and Danny butchered the language. Eric finally got his safe open, getting a full view of the money.

"Hello, my darlings," He exclaimed joyously, "Nobody knows what I went through to get you."

"Ulla knows," Sam stated, "You had to schtup every little old lady in New York."

Eric growled at Sam, "That's right. That's right. And I've still got the denture bites to prove it."

He left the office, leaving Danny and Sam alone. She stepped off of the ladder, getting closer to Danny.

"So, Mr. Bloom, we are alone." She drawled seductively.

Danny grinned, "Yes, we are." He stopped his foot from touching her leg and practically ran away.

"Why Bloom go so far stage right?" He heard her ask and then heard her approach him.

"Bloom no like Ulla?" She said, pouting, "Ulla like Bloom."

"Oh, no. Bloom like Ulla, all right. Perhaps a little too much."

"Good, I'm glad." She said, getting right in his face, causing Danny to pull out the blanket.

"Why Bloom need blue blanket?"

"Oh, it's not important." He gasped out, Sam taking hold of the blanket, rubbing it on her face as well, "It's just a minor compulsion. I've…I've had ever since I was a baby and…You're a little too close."

She let go of the blanket and walked back to the desk, a musical interlude playing while Danny stepped forward and started to sing,

Danny: _The urge to merge can rob us of our senses, the need to breed can make a man a drone. We must be on alert with our defenses, for every skirt will test _

He looked back and saw Sam bent over the desk

Danny:_ Testosterone! So knowing this I severed all connection with any creature sporting silk or lace. I was firmly headed in the right direction when suddenly I stumbled on _

Sam left the desk alone so Danny could work on the contracts. Danny seemed set to follow his own advice when Sam's head appeared next to him, as she painted the phone. They shared a smile.

Danny:_ That face_

Danny turned his attention back to the audience. All the while moving closer and closer to Sam, standing up one point, the two moving close enough to kiss.

Danny:_ That face, that face, that dangerous face, I mustn't be unwise. Those lips, that nose, those eyes, could lead to my demise _

Sam made a move to kiss him, but Danny dodged the attempt, singing. Sam returned to the ladder, dropping her handkerchief. Danny hoped over the desk and retrieved it.

Danny:_ That face, that face, that marvelous face, I never should begin. Those cheeks, that neck, that chin will surely do me in._

Her second attempt ended with Danny moving once again. He sat down on the couch.

Danny:_ I must be smart and hide my heart if she's within a mile. If I don't duck, I'm out of luck, she'd kill me with her smile._

_He turned to see her smile at him. Whether it was his real feelings and anger subsiding or the part he was playing, Danny almost lost all of his breath. He fell back into the seat, clutching his chest. All the while, Sam had climbed off the ladder and back onto the desk._

Danny: _That face, that face, that fabulous face, it's clear I must beware. I'm certain if I fall in love, I'm lost without a trace. But it's worth it...For that face_

Danny approached the desk and she was about to jump off of the desk, only to stop herself when Danny turned around. She decided to take matters into her own hands, taking off her apron.

Sam: (innocently) Oh-oh, Bloom help Ulla down?

Danny: (gulps) All right, Bloom help Ulla down.

He took by the hips and helped her off of the desk. And then, like they were in a musical from the 1940s, the "office" turned a light blue, matching Sam's dress. Sam moved in closer and the orchestra got stronger, while Danny threw himself back to avoid her. However, they soon were dancing like Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire did back in the day. Some of the highlights included a slide on Sam's part across the desk and a spirited chase through the room.

Sam tried to kiss Danny again, but he pulled out the blue blanket, causing her to fall off the back of the couch. Danny looked around for her, when her hand grabbed his tie and yanked him behind the couch with her, Danny pulling the blanket with him. Needless to say, if the Mansons weren't already pissed off at the sex jokes from act one they were fuming now. Sam popped up from behind the couch, her top half sprawled against the back, when she disappeared Danny fell onto the back face first, and, just for good measures, Starr emerged from behind the couch, for no reason except to get a laugh.

When she disappeared the couch began to quake before the faux-exhausted Danny and Sam pulled themselves over it. They say on the on the back, Sam singing back,

Sam: _That face, that face, that lovable face, it melts my Swedish heart_

Danny: _I'm certain if I fall in love, I'm lost without a trace..._

He offered her his hand and they slow danced, while singing,

Danny & Sam: _But it's worth it for...That face_

They pulled off a few more ballroom dancing techniques before Sam practically hurtled Danny at the desk, the backs of his legs stopping him. She moved in and the two kissed to the sound of the audience clapping. Danny took out the blanket and dropped it into the trashcan.


	16. That's Our Hitler

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or The Producers

--

The lights came up to the sound of upbeat piano music. The stage was cluttered with students with Hitler mustaches. A sign near them read: "_Springtime for Hitler_: No Experience Necessary." At the table, Kwan, Eric, Danny and Sam were watching them warm up while Wesley yelled to the chorus boys,

"Again! Arabesque, prepare, pirouette, and twirl. And goose-step, goose-step, waltz-clog, and kick. Again!"

He repeated the process until he caught sight of a student, who really got into character, wearing a Germen helmet and Third Reich uniform. Wesley shoved him back into the dancers, throwing them off rhythm.

"Halt! Halt!" Dash cried out.

Wesley joined in before they both screaming, "Halt!"

"This is bedlam. Bedlam!" Dash screamed.

"Bedlam!" Wesley said, trying to get the attention of the dancers with his mouth clap, "Shut up!"

The dancers stopped and looked at their director and his assistant.

Will all the dancing Hitlers please go offstage right," Dash ordered, "And all the singing Hitlers offstage left?"

They did so,

"Carmen, call a singing Hitler onstage, please." He said.

"Yes darling. Roger." Wesley corrected himself.

He crossed over to another table, picking up several note cards. He read the first name,

"Jacque Lapedu." He said, getting no one, "Jacque Lapedu."

Dash looked at the card and whispered something into his ear.

"Jack Lapidus." Wesley said, dropping all French accents.

A large man in a suit, Hitler mustache and haircut and all, walked up.

"And what will you be singing?" Dash asked.

"I will be singing _A Wandering Minstrel I_."

"If you must." Dash said, annoyed.

The piano began to play,

"_A wandering minstrel I, a thing of shred…_" He screeched.

"Thank you!" Dash yelled, "Next please."

"Donald Dinsmore!" Wesley called out.

"Donald, if we…" Dash was cut off when Scott, the choreographer in a different role, walked in as a disheveled old man.

"Hello." Scott said, trying to hug.

"No, it's all right, Donald." Dash said, pushing his arms away while Scott gave a Nazi salute, "Yes, friend, what will you be singing for us."

"I'd like to sing _The Little Wooden Boy_." He answered, clutching the inseam of his pants.

"All right." Dash said, taking a bow.

The music began to play when Scott sprang across the floor, his arms swinging like a puppet. He began to dance around the stage like a puppet. He opened his mouth to sing, but Dash cut him off.

"Next!"

"Jason Green." Wesley called out.

The dancer that Dash had pushed earlier walked to center stage. His wooden walk matched his expression. Dash examined this actor before asking,

"Well Jason, what have you been up to lately?"

"For the last 16 years, I've been touring in No, No Nietzsche."

"You played Nietzsche?"

"No, no."

"What are you going to sing for us?" Dash asked, tired of this guy's attitude already.

"Have you ever heard the German band?" He answered.

"No."

"That is the name of the song I am going to sing." The student said, copping an attitude.

"Oh." Dash drawled, returning the attitude in kind.

"Play it, please." "Jason" ordered.

Kwan gasped in joy and there was a new, upbeat tune as the song began to play.

"Speed it up." "Jason" ordered.

"Jason": (wooden and stilted) _Haben sie gehort das Deutsche Band. Mit a bang, mit a boom, mit a bing-bang bing-bang boom._

This performance sent Kwan over the edge and he leapt to his feet, screaming at everyone.

"Halt! Halt! No, no, no, stop! This man could never play Adolf Hitler. The Fuhrer wasn't a mousy little mama's boy! The Fuhrer was BUTCH!" He yelled, "And that is not how you sing _Haben sie gehort das Deutsche Band. _This is how you sing_ Haben sie gehort das Deutsche Band. _B-flat, 2/2 time. Modulate at the bridge. Raus."

The pianist began to play as Kwan turned his back to the audience. The tempo picked up when the spotlight hit him.

Kwan: _Haben sie gehort das Deutsche Band. Mit a bang, mit a boom, mit a bing-bang bing-bang boom._

His movements and little dance was a millions times more lively than anyone they had seen before.

Kwan: _Aaah, haben sie gehort das Deutsche Band. Mit a bang, mit a boom, mit a bing-bang bing-bang boom._

He waved his legs around and slid across the stage  
_  
Kwan: Russian folksongs und French oo-la-la can't compare with a German oom-pah-pah! Ve're sayin'...Haben sie gehort das Deutsche Band. Mit a zetz, mit a zap, mit a zing..._

He danced around like he was doing a Polka. Eric watched this and began to get an idea.

_Kwan: Polish polkas, they're stupid und they're rotten, it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that schweigen-reigen-schone-schutzen-schmutzen sauerbraten! Key change!  
_

The pianist saluted him and the big band finish began.

Kwan: _Ve're sayin'...Haben sie gehort das Deutsche Band. Mit a zetz, mit a zap, mit a zing...It's ze only kind of musik zat ve huns und our honeys love to sing!_

Eric leapt out of his chair and shouted,

Eric: That's our Hitler!

With Hitler cast, the lights went out.


	17. It's Bad Luck To Say Good Luck

Disclaimer: I do not own The Producers and Danny Phatom

Disclaimer: I do not own The Producers and Danny Phantom. Neither now or at any time in the past.

Warning: This probably going to be the shortest chapter of the story.

--

The usherettes entered the stage, a single spotlight on them,

Usherettes #1 & #2: _Opening night...It's opening night! It's Max Bialystock's latest show. Will it flop or will it go? __We're so excited, we can't sit down, cause Springtime for Hitler has come to town, _

They disappeared and another spotlight lit the stage, focusing on the entering Danny. He was examining the "street" to make sure everyone got into the "theatre" on time. He clutched a producer's hat in his hand and was about to put it on when he heard Eric shout,

"Leo!"

Eric, wearing a rain cape, entered from the stage left. He pointed to the hat and asked,

"Who told you could wear that hat?"

"Well, nobody, Max, but I thought that know that I'm a producer of a Broadway show."

"Has the curtain gone up yet?"

"No."

"Has the curtain gone down yet?"

"No."

"Then you're not a producer yet. Give me the hat."

"Mr. Bloom! Leo." They heard Sam shout.

She rushed to Danny and grabbed his tie.

"Your tie is askew." She said, straightening.

"Askew?" Danny asked, before catching his tie, "Well, thank you, Ulla. Have a good show."

They gave each other a quick peck on the lips before they kissed again more passionately.

"Roll them in the aisles." Danny encouraged, trying to keep his footing.

"Okey-Dokey. I will try to," She turned to head into the theatre, but turned around again, "But there are so many of them."

Eric gave Danny a glare

"Gee, I thought we were partners, sharing everything fifty-fifty." He growled, "Now, I'm out in the cold and you two are busy askewing each other."

"Askewing? Never, Max." Danny stated, appalled at Eric's allegation, "Hugs and kisses, yes, but that's as far as I go."

They jumped out of the way when Kwan darted in on a bicycle, he hopped off it and landed in front of them.

"Be sure to pick me up immediately after curtain call!" He screamed at the now-riderless bike.

Dash and Wesley entered from where Kwan had seconds earlier.

"The suspense is killing me." Dash stated.

"Yes, I know," Wesley said, "I feel like I'm going into labor."

The two laughed while Wesley mimicked Lamaze.

Dash: Ah, it's Bialystock and Bloom. Well, gentlemen ... merde!

Wesley: Toi, toi, toi

Kwan: Hals und Beinbruch!

Dash: Everything is place! I can just hear those reviews.

Eric: (to himself) Yeah, me too.

Danny: And I just want to wish everybody ... good luck!

The sound of those words caused Dash, Wesley and Kwan to leap back, but it gave Eric another idea,

Wesley: (girlish) Ahhhhh! What did he say?

Dash: Bite your tongue.

Kwan: Gott in Himmell.

Danny: What? All I said was good luck.

Wesley: He said it again.

Dash slapped Danny on the shoulder,

Dash: Mr. Bloom, hasn't anyone ever told you..._It's bad luck to say "good luck" on opening night, if you do, I tell you it is certain by the curtain you are through! _

A group of actors entered the theatre and were met by Eric, stunned at his lack of tradition,

Eric: Good luck!

Wesley pushed Dash aside, grabbing Danny by the shoulders, waving his finger in his face,

Wesley: _It's bad luck to say "good luck" on opening night, once it's said, you are dead. You will get the worst reviews you've ever read!_

Eric: Good luck!

That actress hit him with her costume,

Dash: _Even at the Comedie-Francaise, on the opening night they are scared "Bon chance, mes amis", no one says the only word you ever hear is..._

Dash, Wesley & Kwan: _Merde!_

Cast and Crewmembers entering the stage were met with Eric shouting,

Eric: Good luck, good luck, good luck

Kwan grabbed Danny and slammed him into the theatre wall,

Kwan: _It's verboten, vishing "luck" on opening night. Take advice, don't think twice or your show will surely end up in the Scheiss!_

Eric grabbed a ladder and set them in front of the door, watching them to pass under it,

Eric: Guten lucken.

Wesley: _At the famous La Scala in Milan On opening night it's a rule. "In boccu lupa" they say with élan and just for luck they all shout..._

Dash, Wesley & Kwan: "Bah fungal!"

Danny leapt out of the group,

Danny: I got it! _Now I'll never say "good luck" on opening night. That's the rule, I'm no fool! What do I say, I beg?_

The trio slide around him, mimicking a barbershop trio,

Dash, Wesley & Kwan: _What you say is "break a leg"!_

Danny: Break a leg?

Dash, Wesley & Kwan: Yes, break a leg!

Danny, Dash, Wesley & Kwan: _If you're clever..._

Eric climbed up the ladder, ushering people into the door,

Eric: Good luck!

Danny, Dash, Wesley & Kwan: _You'll endeavor _

Eric kicked a mirror, busting the glass,

Danny, Dash, Wesley and Kwan:_ To never, never, never, never ever, ever, ever say..._

Eric grabbed a black cat and threw it under a ladder.

Danny, Dash, Wesley and Kwan: _On opening night!_

Five minutes to curtain. Curtains up in five minutes." An usher bellowed.

"Hasslehoff. I am late," Kwan said, "I must run."

"Break a leg." Everyone said.

He ran through the "door" and the next thing everybody heard onstage and off was the sound of glass shattering and various other noises.

"Kaiser!" They heard Kwan groan

The quartet turned back to the door, Eric leading the way. He opened the door

"Franz, what happened?"

"I have broken my leg."

Eric shut the door and was nearly crying while Dash broke the silence with his hysterical rant,

"We'll have to cancel the show and give everybody their money back."

Eric grabbed his chest, letting out a soundless scream,

"Money back? Money back? Money back?" He choked out, his breath more labored than before, falling into Dash's arms, "Don't ever say that again."

Eric stumbled about the stage and screamed,

"Money back? Never. We'll have to think of something else."

"But, Franz plays Hitler, there is no understudy." Danny said, reminding him.

"You're right. What are we going to do? There has to be something else."

Dash, meanwhile, was thinking, pressing his comb to his nose. Eric was still ranting when he turned around,

"Think. There has to be something."

Eric looked at Dash, the comb under his nose, miming a mustache, and with Dash's hair dyed black for the role, he was almost a shoe-in for the part.

"Hold it. I got it. Roger, you could play the part." Eric suggested, "You know every line. I've seen you at rehearsals, constantly moving your mouth with the actors."

Dash didn't realize that he was miming Eric's lines back at him, but covered his mouth when he did.

"I know. It's an embarrassing habit." He admitted, "I'm trying to break it. But, me, play Hitler. No, there's no way I can do it. Not tonight."

Dash walked stage right, becoming more and more dramatic with his performance,

"I don't have the strength. I don't have the courage. I can't do it. I can't do it. I can't do it."

Wesley slapped Dash across the face,

"Wow that hurt." He yelled.

"Roger, listen to me," Wesley said, grabbing him by the shoulders, "You can do it. You know you can do it and I know you can do it. You've been waiting all your lifetime for this chance and I'm not going to let you pass it up."

He turned Dash to face the audience,

"You're going up there a silly, hysterical screaming queen, but you're coming back a great big, passing for straight, Broadway star."

"All right. All right." Dash said, "I'll do it. By God, I'll do it. I've got to get into makeup."

He ran past Eric and Danny, turning back to them and ordering,

"Quick, fetch Franz's Hitler mustache. Oh, and my lucky Gloria Swanson mole."

Wesley took the face mole off of his face and placed it on Dash's cheek. They ran through the door together, leaving Danny and Eric alone. The sound of music got Eric's attention.

"Leo, the overture's starting. Let's go."

They ran in the opposite direction, leaping for joy as they did.

--

A/N: All right, ladies and gentlemen, the next chapter is going to be the performance of Springtime for Hitler. I hope you enjoy this chapter and will wait patiently for the next chapter because the damned song is so long.


	18. Springtime for Hitler

Disclaimer: I do not own The Producers and Danny Phantom. Neither now or at any time in the past.

--

Tucker sat at the top of the scaffold holding all of his equipment. He placed a see-through scan of a map of Germany into one of the projectors, the image up on the closed curtain. The curtains went up and chorus, decked out in clogs and atypical German clothing, began to sing,

Chorus: _Germany was having trouble, what a sad, sad story! Needed a new leader to restore its former glory. __Where, oh, where was he? Where could that man be? We looked around and then we found the man for you and me_

The spotlight hit a set of stairs revealing Nathan Lester, his hair dyed blonde and wearing a Nazi uniform, stepped out and sang in a lovely tenor voice,

Nathan Lester: _And now it's...Springtime for Hitler and Germany, Deutschland is happy and gay!  
_

In the crowd, Jeremy's jaw was on the floor. He looked over at his wife to make sure she was still out cold. When he saw that she was he grabbed Lancer by his collar and said,

"What kind of propaganda show are you allowing in the school?"

"Be quiet. I'm trying to enjoy this song."

"It's about Hitler."

"Charles Dickens' ghost." Lancer groaned, "It's part of the show!"

"The Holocaust was not funny!"

"SHHH!" Everyone in the audience sounded off.

Nathan Lester: _We're marching to a faster pace, look out, here comes the master race! Springtime for Hitler and Germany, Rhineland's a fine land once more!  
_

_Springtime for Hitler and Germany, watch out, Europe, we're going on tour! Springtime for Hitler and Germany... _

Chorus: _Look, it's springtime_

Ashley, Starr and Valerie entered, each one in a more over the top costume than before. Ashley dressed as the sausage queen, Starr as the pretzel princess, and Valerie, well, she was dressed as a woman who did not want to have swastikas on her breasts,

Nathan Lester: _Winter for Poland and France_

Chorus and Nathan Lester: _Springtime for Hitler and Germany!_

Chorus: _Springtime! Springtime! Springtime! Springtime! Springtime! Springtime! Springtime! Springtime!_

Nathan Lester: _Come on, Germans, go into your dance!_

The students began to tap dance on stage, when one came to a stop,

Stormtrooper "Rolf": _I was born in Dusseldorf und that is why they call me Rolf._

One did a twirl and sang out, in Mel Brooks' voice,

Stormtrooper "Mel": _Don't be stupid, be a smarty, come and join the Nazi party!_

If the sight of dancing Nazis wasn't enough to send Jeremy into a frenzy, the sight of his daughter in a blue and white sequins dress, cut just above her knees, made him a frothing madman.

Sam: _The Fuhrer is coming, the Fuhrer is coming, the Fuhrer is coming! _

The stormtroopers saluted.

Stormtrooper #1: _Heil Hitler!_

Stormtrooper #2: _Heil Hitler!_

Nathan Lester: _Heil Hitler! Springtime for Hitler and Germany_

They all pulled their arms down and put their hands in a circle, jumping into the air on,

All: _Heil Hitler!_

Pamela opened her eyes when the orchestra swelled and a singular spotlight hit Dash, wearing the traditional brown uniform of Adolf Hitler. She struggled to regain her vision. Moments later, she was back on the floor, just as Dash surveyed the audience and began to sing,

Dash: _Heil myself, Heil to me. I'm the kraut, who's out to change our history. Heil myself, raise your hand, there's no greater Dictator in the land! _

He and the chorus danced stage left

Dash: _Everything I do, I do for you!_

Chorus: _Yes, you do!_

Dash: _If you're looking for a war, here's World War Two! Heil myself! Raise your beer!_

Chorus: _Jawohl!_

Dash: _Ev'ry hotsy-totsy Nazi stand and cheer_

Chorus: _Hooray! Ev'ry hotsy-totsy Nazi..._

Every movement Dash made on stage became more fluid and flamboyant as he began to get into the role.

Dash: _Heil myself!  
_

Chorus: _Ev'ry hotsy-totsy Nazi..._

Dash:_ Heil myself!_

Chorus: _Ev'ry hotsy-totsy Nazi..._

Dash:..._stand and cheer! _

Students dressed as Zeppelins appeared, doing a Rockette-style kick line.

The Heil-Los: _The Fuhrer is causing a furor! He's got those Russians on the run! You gotta love that wacky Hun! _

The chorus girls dropped their jackets, wearing the stormtrooper uniforms along with the suggested leather boots, cracking their whips.

The Heil-Los: _The Fuhrer is causing a furor! They can't say "no" to his demands! They're freaking out in foreign lands! __He's got the whole world in his hands! The Fuhrer is causing a furor!_

The curtain dropped again, leaving Dash alone at the very edge of the stage. Remembering what Ms. Charles had told him earlier and sat down on the stage,

Dash: _I was just a paperhanger, no one more obscurer. Got a phone call from the Reichstag, told me I was Fuhrer. __Germany was blue, what, oh, what to do? Hitched up my pants and conquered France, now Deutschland's smiling through!_

His voice alternating to a damn near identical Judy Garland impression,

Dash: But it wasn't always so easy...It was 1932. Hindenburg was working the Big Room and I...I was playing the lounge. And then I got my big break. Somebody burned down the Reichstag. And, would you believe it? They made me Chancellor. Chancellor!

He sprang to his feet, the biggest spotlight of all hitting him,

Dash: _It ain't no myst'ry if it's politics or hist'ry, the thing you gotta know is ev'rything is show biz. _

He began to dance in place, his voice retuning to it's original baritone sound,

_Heil myself! Watch my show! I'm the German Ethel Merman, dontcha know? We are crossing borders, the new world order is here. __Make a great big smile, ev'ryone sieg heil to me, wonderful me! And now it's...  
_

Dash slinked back, the curtains rising again to reveal students dressed in tanks, their voices singing as one

Chorus: _**Springtime for Hitler and Germany…Goose-step's the new step today!**_**…**

Dash held each note as the chorus

Dash: _**Springtime…Goose-steps…**_

Chorus Men: _Bombs falling from the skies again_

Tucker hit the button that sounded off the explosion

Chorus: _Deutschland is on the rise again_

Jeremy was only one in the audience not laughing when he realized that the chorus, Dash, and Sam were forming a giant swastika as they goose-stepped in a circle,

Dash & Chorus: _Springtime for Hitler and Germany! U-boats are sailing once more! Springtime for Hitler and Germany!_

Dash hoped behind Nathan, popping out behind him and singing,

Dash: _Means that..._

Chorus: _Soon we'll be going..._

Dash marched in place,

Dash: _We've got to be going..._

Chorus: _You know we'll be going..._

He gave a "aw shucks" shrug of his shoulders, before a globe of the world emerged from under his feet, hoisting him up above all the rest,

Dash: _You bet we'll be going..._

They all saluted as cannons went off around them,

Dash & Chorus: _You know we'll be going to war!!_

The audience went ballistic for the students when Dash hoped off of the globe and kissed Sam on the lips, leaving the Hitler mustache behind. Jeremy had seen enough,

"That's it, I could take the swastikas and the Hitler worship, but if you think my little girl…"

He let out a battle cry and ran toward the stage, but tripped over something as he did. Ida looked down at her fallen son,

"Jeremy, are you all right?" She asked, slipping her cane back into his scooter's basket.

Elliot's hand appeared behind her and she gave him a high five. Jack also high-fived Ida. The two chuckled at the fallen Manson male only to turn and get a stare from their wives.

"What?" Elliot asked.

"It's not like **I **did it." Jack defended.


	19. Where Did We Go Right?

Disclaimer: I do not own The Producers and Danny Phantom. Neither now or at any time in the past.

--

The lights came up and Eric and Danny opened the door to the "office", Eric clutching newspapers in his hand. Danny was groaning in agony while Eric looked at the papers,

Eric: Look at these reviews! "A satiric masterpiece."

Danny fell to the ground, his groans louder than before

Danny: No way out.

Eric: "A surprise smash!"

Danny crawled over to the trashcan and retrieved his blue blanket.

Danny: No way out.

Eric: "It was shocking, outrageous, insulting...and I loved every minute of it!"

Danny: (having a panic attack) No way out.

Eric: How could this happen? _The show was lousy and long, we did everything _

_wrong. Where did we go right? _

Danny stood up and looked at one the reviews

Danny: "Christmas came early to Broadway this year - and guess who they stuffed in our stocking? Adolf Hitler!"

Eric sat on the couch, pondering like Rodan's "Great Thinker"

Eric: _It was so crass and so crude even Goebbels would've booed. Where did we go right?_

Danny picked up another paper,

Danny: "Last night a star was born on Broadway - the lovely Miss Ulla Inga Hansen Bensen Yonsen Tallen-Hallen Svaden-Svanson. We predict that her name will soon be up in lights. If they can find enough bulbs.

They looked at each and shouted to the audience, Eric leapt off the couch,

Eric & Danny: _We searched Broadway on and off for singers with a cough, we had tryouts and auditions by the score. __And to trip the light fantastic we picked dancers who were spastic, if anyone jeted, we jeted them out the door!_

Eric: (annoyed) _They shouted hooray for that sausage on display. Where did we go right?_

Danny: (confused) _Our leading man was so gay, he nearly flew away. Where did we go right?_

Eric: _A show so easy to despise... _

Danny: _Now it's up for the Pulitzer Prize!_

Eric & Danny: _Oh, where, oh, where, tell us, where did we go right?_

Eric pulled the paper out of Danny's hands and read the praise for himself,

Eric: "The best new music of the decade! Max Bialystock is a theatrical genius!"

He threw down the paper, fuming,

Eric: Now they like me! _Oh, we knew we couldn't lose_

Eric & Danny: _Half the audience were Jews!_

Danny: _It's the end of our careers_

Eric: _It'll run for twenty years!_

Eric & Danny: _Tell us where...Did we go right?!_

Eric flopped back onto the couch while Danny ran around the desk and opened the safe. He reached into the safe and pulled at a pile of accounting books.

"What are doing?" Eric questioned when he saw the books.

"I'm taking the books and I'm leaving," Danny bluntly admitted, "Don't try to stop me, I've already made up my mind."

Eric panicked, grabbing Danny's arm, "Wait a minute. Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm turning myself in, it's the only way." Danny said, "I'm going to play ball with the IRS. I'm going to cooperate with the authorities." He then began to babble, "They'll reduce my sentence and then there's time off for good behavior. Maybe I'll get a job in the prison library."

Danny yanked his arm out of Eric's grip and began to run.

"Please keep in touch. It's been a pleasure working with you."

Eric grabbed the books, "Leo. Leo. Leo."

Danny managed to free the books only have Eric grab his arm again.

"Nervous Leo. Frightened Leo, take it easy." Eric said, soothingly pulling Danny with him onto the couch. "All right? Listen, you're overwrought. You don't know what you're doing." Eric's tone became more panicked as he spoke, "You're acting out of panic. Gimme those freaking books."

Eric grabbed the books and they started to fight over them again.

"I should never have listened to you," Danny yelled, "I was an honest man before I met you."

"Honest man? You were an honest mouse."

"I hate you."

"Double! Double! Double!"

Eric slammed Danny back onto the couch and grabbed the books, holding the sigh in triumph before jumping on Danny for good measure. He laughed with glee before Danny leapt to his feet, a crazed look in his eyes.

"Fat!" Danny screamed, "Fat!"

"It's just a pillow under my shirt." Eric defended.

"Fat! Danny yelled, grabbing Eric's face and pulling on the skin.

Danny pulled down his hat and axe handled Eric in the stomach.

"Fatty! You fat, fat, fat, fatty, fatty fat walrus. Give me those fat books."

"Never!"

Danny jumped on Eric, who turned onto his stomach to protect the books.

"Give them to me!" Danny shouted, mounting Eric from behind.

Meanwhile, Dash and Wesley came running into the room, the former yelling,

"Congratulations."

Dash and Wesley stopped to see Danny on top of Eric, shouting

"Give it to me!"

"No."

"Give it to me."

"No."

"Now that's what I call celebrating." Dash said, grabbing Wesley's hand.

When Eric heard Dash's voice, he threw Danny off of his back and yelled,

"You lousy fruit. You've ruined me."

"You ungrateful breeder," Wesley shot back, "After he stepped in and saved your little show I cannot…"

Wesley was cut off by Eric twisting the chains around his neck. Dash leapt in to rescue Wesley from the maniacal Eric when the door swung open again. This time it was Kwan, holding a crutch in hand and a pistol in the other, firing it into the air. Everyone screamed and ran to the couch. He aimed the gun at them.

"You have broken the Siegfried Oath. You must die. You must all die."

Everybody scattered while Kwan started to shoot like a stormtrooper shooting at a main character.

"Stop shooting, you Neo-Nazi nitwit" Dash yelled, "Your show's a hit."

"Who cares?" Kwan cried, "You made a fool out of Hitler."

"He didn't need our help." Dash and Wesley said together.

They ducked when Kwan fired again, destroying a window where Eric was hiding. Kwan shot at Danny, missing by a mile.

"Hold still." He ordered, "How can I shoot you if you keep moving?"

He began to chase everyone out of the glass door and back into the office.

"Under the desk! Under the desk!" Eric yelled to Danny and they ducked for cover.

Meanwhile, Dash and Wesley ran to the closet door,

"Darling quick," Dash ordered, "Back in the closet."

Kwan reentered the "office", looking around for his targets.

"This is no good. I am not killing you. You must cooperate."

He searched the "office", spotting Danny and Eric cowering under the desk.

"All right, Bialystock und Bloom. Now I got you. Say your prayers."

Eric turned to Danny, "Remember when I said, I would tell when we were in too deep?"

"Yeah?"

"We're in too deep."

Kwan screamed something in German before Eric cut him off,

"Franz, please don't do this."

Kwan aimed the gun at them and watched them cower and plead.

"You sniveling cowards. Cringing under a desk. Clinging to life like baby butterflies. Franz Liebkind will show you how to die like a man."

Kwan put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened except the sound of the gun's hammer.

"It's jammed. Boy, when things go wrong…" Kwan said to himself.

He threw the gun onto and went off blowing a hole through the back.

"That's it." Eric stated, "Next time, no author."

He scrambled out from under the desk and grabbed the gun.

"Why are you shooting at us for, anyways? You Teutonic twit!" He asked, slapping Kwan in the arm (Hey, that kind of rhymes), before thing for a moment, "Wait, wait a minute. I just got an idea. A way to close the show."

He ran back to the couch.

"Franz." He said, getting nothing but a sobbing Kwan, "There, there."

"Where? Where?" Kwan sobbed.

"Franz, listen to me. Why don't you use this where it will do some good?" He asked, handing the gun back to Kwan, "Why don't you shoot the actors?"

"The actors?"

"Yes, the actors." Eric reappeared, mimicking a German accent, "Everybody laughed at your beloved Fuher. And why? Because of the actors. The actors were making fun of him."

"Yes, the actors."

"Yes, here, go buy bullets, lots of bullets." Eric ordered, pulling money out of his pocket. Kill the actors. Kill all the actors."

"I must kill the actors." Kwan said, nodding.

"Yeah."

"Wait a minute," Danny interjected, grabbing the gun, "What are you talking about? What do you mean, kill the actors? You can't kill the actors, they're not animals. They're human beings."

"They are? Have you ever eaten with one?"

The sound of a police whistle sounded offstage,

"Open up, it's the police." One person shouted.

"The police." They all shouted.

"I said, open the door." The "police" shouted.

Everybody bolted around the room and Danny ran for the door as the police opened the door.

"I was never a member of the Nazi party. I had nothing to do…" Kwan shouted, putting the gun to his head.

"You drop that gun."

Dash and Wesley leapt out of the closet, yelling,

"Officers."

"This crazy kraut is crackers," Dash said, pointing at Kwan, "He crashed in here and crassly tried to kill us."

"Oh, Roger, the alliteration." Wesley pointed out.

"Thank you, darling." Dash said, as he and Wesley let out girlish laughs.

"Okay, you two can go." The older "cop" said.

"Thank you." Dash and Wesley said, skipping out of the room.

"tried to kill 'em, eh?" The "cop" questioned, "Officer O'Rourke, take this man in. Next stop Sing-Sing."

Kwan began to sneak away when the "officer" gave his younger partner the order.

"Sing-Sing, Nein. You'll never take me alive." Kwan shouted, hobbling out of the room the younger "officer" in hot pursuit.

The sounds of crashing and groaning sounded offstage.

"What happened?"

"I broke my other leg." Kwan answered.

The older student heard the sound of the bathroom door rattling. He turned his gun on the door and opened it. Eric stood there, holding a suitcase. He smiled at the "officer".

"All right, who are you and why was he trying to you?"

"I haven't the slightest idea, Sergeant O'Toole." Eric said, in an Irish accent, his voice getting higher and higher as he spoke, "The name's O'Bialystock. I was just passing by on my way to the Pat O'Brien film festival and I ducked in to see what the hell was going on. And now I'll be on my way before me voice gets any higher."

Eric started to laugh getting no response from O'Toole.

"Well, as they say in the old country," He yelled in his normal voice, "Taxi!"

O'Rourke, who had reentered the "office", was at the desk.

"Hey, Sarge, look at this."

"What?"

Eric stopped mid-step and turned around to see O'Rourke bring the books to O'Toole.

"I found these two accounting books. This one says, 'Show to the IRS.'"

"And what's the other one say?"

"'Never show to the IRS.'"

"I think the three of you better come downtown with me." O'Toole suggested, grabbing Eric before he could run.

"Three?" He asked.

"Yeah, you and them two books."

The "cops" grabbed Eric and led him offstage and the "office" empty. No sooner had they left did Sam reappear. She looked around the office.

"Mr. Bialystock? Mr. Bloom? Where are you?" She continued to look, "Everyone is looking for you at the opening night party."

"Ulla, help me." She heard Danny yell from behind the door.

Sam turned around and ran for the door, pushing it closed.

"What happened to you?" She asked, "Oh, I know. You accidentally hung your coat up while you were still in it."

She helped off of the door and he kissed her. She gave a more heated kiss.

"What were you doing up there?" She asked.

"Hiding." He gasped out, "I was hiding."

"From what? From who?

"From the police. They were just here. They arrested Max."

"They found the books?" Sam asked.

"I don't know what to do. Poor Max." Danny whined, "Maybe I should turn myself in and go to jail with him."

"Well, my sweet cupcake." Sam said, "I know we both love Max, but it seems to me that you have two choices. Number one, you can go to jail with Mr. Bialystock for years and years and years. Or, number two, you take the two million and Ulla and go to Rio."

Danny thought about his options, "Oh my God, what a dilemma. Should I go to jail or go to Rio?"

Sam hugged him, letting him rest his head on her fake breasts. The lights went out on the stage, leaving the audience to wonder what Danny was going to do.


	20. Betrayed

Disclaimer: I do not own The Producers and Danny Phantom. Neither now or at any time in the past.

--

The lights came up again, this time on a cell. Eric stood against the bars, leering at the audience, who were to busy laughing at his plight.

"Mail call." A guard called out. "Hey, you, fatso."

"I'm not fat." Eric growled.

"Says you." The guard shot back, "You've got a postcard."

Eric walked over to the guard, "A postcard? From where?"

"Brazil."

"Brazil? Who do I know in Brazil?" Eric asked himself, taking the postcard, his eyes widening at the sender's identity and began to read aloud, "Dear Max, Rio is everything you said it was and more. Ulla and I think of you every chance we get. In the morning, when we have breakfast on our terrace, many different herrings. And in the evening, when we samba together in the moonlight. Sorry, must run. Ulla's waiting, it's almost eleven. Wish you were here, Leo."

Eric squeezed the postcard, crumbling it in his hand. He began growl, throwing down the card and belting out,

Eric: _Just like Cain and Abel, you pulled a sneak attack. I thought that we were brothers, then you stabbed me in the back. Betrayed! Oh boy, I'm so betrayed!_

The tempo picked up as Eric did his best Gene Kelly in Singing in the Rain impression.

Eric: _Like Samson and Delilah, your love began to fade. I'm crying in the hoosegow, you're in Rio getting laid! Betrayed! Let's face it, I'm betrayed!_

_Boy, have I been taken, oy, I'm so forsaken. I should have seen what came to pass, I should have known to watch my ass! __I feel like Othello, everything is lost, Leo is Iago, Max is double-crossed! I'm so dismayed, did I mention I'm betrayed?  
_

_I used to be the king, but now I am the fool. A captain without a ship, a rabbi without a shul!_

He leapt onto the cot, hanging on to one of the bars and then whacking his head on the light. Eric fell to the ground, pulling himself up onto his knees.

Eric: _Now I'm about to go to jail, there's no one who will pay my bail, I have no one who I can cry to, no one I can say goodbye to. _

He fell back, trying to block the spotlight from his eyes. He sprang to his feet,

Eric: I'm drowning! I'm drowning here! I'm going down for the last time. I-I-I see my whole life flashing before my eyes.

He looked around, staring at the audience, his eyes wider than usual,

Eric: I see a weathered old farmhouse with a white picket fence. I'm running through fields of alfalfa with my collie, Rex. Stop it, Rex!

Eric stopped and fell to his knees

Eric: I see my mother standing on the back porch, in a worn but clean gingham gown, and I hear her calling out to me,

He called out in a high-pitched,

Eric: "Alvin! Don't forget your chores. The wood needs a-cordin and the cows need a-milkin'. Alvin, Alvin..."

Eric stopped talking, thinking about what he just said,

Eric: Wait a minute! My name's not Alvin! That's not my life. I'm not a hillbilly. I grew up in the Bronx. Leo's taken everything. Even my past!

He leapt to his feet,

Eric: _My past's a dying ember, but wait...now I remember. How did it begin? He walked into my office with his cockamamie scheme. You can make more money with a flop than with a hit._

_"We can do it, we can do it" "I can't do it" "We can do it!" "I can't do it!" Goodbye Max! Lord, I want that money! I'm back, Max! "Come on, Leo, we can do it!"_

He raised his index finger, and did the Hop-Clop

Eric: _Step one, find the play! See it, swirl it, touch it, kiss it! Hello, Mister Liebkind! "Guten Tag, hop clop "Guten Tag, hop clop" Adolf Elizabeth Hitler? "Guten Tag, hop clop "Guten Tag, hop clop!"  
_

He counted to step two, and dancing like Dash again,

Eric: _Step two, hire the director "Keep it gay, keep it gay, keep it..." Two-three, kick, turn, turn, turn, kick, turn.  
_

He turned and looked over to the cell door,

Eric: _Ulla! Oooh wah wah woo-woo- wah-wah  
_

He raised a third finger

Eric: _Step three, raise the money "Along came Bialy!"_ Intermission!

He paused, tapping his feet. Raising a fourth finger,

Eric: _Step four, hire all the actors "A wandering minstrel I, A think of shreds and...Next! The little wooden boy Next! That's our Hitler!_

He began to invite invisible theatre patrons,

Eric: _"Opening night!" Good luck, good luck, good luck Break a leg! I broke my leg!  
_

He began to dance in a circle,

Eric: _"Springtime for Hitler and Germany!" A surprise smash! "Springtime for Hitler and Germany! It'll run for years!_

Eric gave the audience a questioning look,

Eric: _"Where did we go right? Where did we go right?"_

He did a mock struggle for the invisible books,

Eric: _Gimme those books Fat, fat, fatty! Gimme those books! Books, fat, Books, fat, Books, fat, Books, fat! Lousy fruit! Kill the actors! You ever eat with one?!__  
_

The cell light up and looked like something off of the Broadway strip. Eric gyrated his hips like Elvis

Eric: _Then you ran to Rio and you're safely out of reach. I'm behind these bars, you're banging Ulla on the beach!_

The lights began to flash on and off as the orchestra grew stronger.

Eric:_Just like Julius Caesar was betrayed by Brutus, who'd think an accountant would turn out to be my Judas!_

He picked up the postcard, it, looking at the crumpled image of Rio,

Eric: _I'm so dismayed, is this how I'm repaid? To be..._

Eric spun around toward the cot, raising the card over his head, one foot on the cot,

Eric: _Betrayed!_

He swung his leg off and fell onto the cot, the card still in the air,

Eric: _BETRAYED!!_

The audience launched into a thunderous applause, while Eric ripped the postcard in half and the lights went out.

--

A/N: We're almost the end of the show, ladies and gents.


	21. Til Him

Disclaimer: I do not own The Producers and Danny Phantom.

--

The stage had now become a courtroom, the "judge" staring at the jury. Eric sat at the defendant's chair, a bevy of little old ladies sitting behind him.

"Gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?" The "judge" asked.

The jury foreman stood up, clearing his breath, "Yes, we have. Your Honor, we, the jury, find the defendant incredibly guilty."

The little old ladies let out surprised gasps; Starr reached over the divider, tapping Eric on the shoulder.

"Hold Me, touch Me." She pleaded.

"I'm a little busy." He snarled back.

"Does the defendant have anything to say on his behalf?" The "judge" asked.

"Yes, Your Honor, I do." Eric said standing up, "I admit, for the last 20 years, I've been a lying, double-crossing, two faced, backstabbing, despicable crook, but I had no choice. I was a Broadway producer." He turned to speak to everybody in the crowd, "A man without a conscience and with no one who gave a damn about him. And that, your honor, is what hurts the most. I thought that, at last, I had found a loyal partner. A man I cared about, and who I thought cared about me. And what breaks my heart, is that now when I needed him most he deserted me. And I will probably never see or hear from him again."

"That's not true." A voice called out from offstage.

Danny and Sam entered the stage; dressed in their best vacation clothes, samba music playing in the background. The entire "courtroom" erupted into a dancing mess, the "judge" banging his gavel.

"Order in the court! Order in the…Stop that samba!" He yelled, the music stopping and the entire stage calmed back down. "Who are you?"

"I am Leopold Bloom." Danny said, "Max Bialystock's partner."

"And who are you, my dear?" The "judge" asked Sam.

"My name is Ulla Inga Hansen Bensen Yonsen Tallen-Hallen Svaden-Svanson…Bloom." Sam said.

"Bloom? You're his wife?" The "judge" questioned.

"Ja, Your Honor, "She said, before confiding to the "judge", "He wouldn't do it unless we were married."

"What a schmuck." The "judge" said, "Now, Mr. Bloom, why would you come back here and turn yourself in?"

"Why? To speak on his behalf." Danny simply stated, "We all know that Max Bialystock is a lying, double-crossing, two-faced, slimy, manipulative, under-handed…"

"Please," Eric said, cutting Danny off, "Don't help me."

"Your Honor, if I may address the court." Danny said, getting a gesture of yes from the "judge", "The law was created to protect people from being wronged. So whom has Max Bialystock wronged? Well, not these dear ladies."

"No." The ladies said in unison.

"No, and not me. Not…Not me. I was this nobody. No one ever called me Leo before. I mean, Your Honor, I know it's no big legal point, but in kindergarten everybody just called me Bloom. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, even when I was in Rio and I had everything I had ever dreamed of."

He smiled at Sam before turning his attention back to Eric, music playing in the background,

Danny: I suddenly realized that ... this man... this man..._ No one every made me feel like someone 'til him. _

He turned to the jury

Danny: _Life was really nothing but a glum one 'til him. _

Danny turned his focus to the little old ladies

Danny: _My existence bordered on the tragic, always timid, never took a chance. Then I felt his magic and my heart began to dance._

He looked back at the judge,

Danny: _I was always frightened, fraught with worry...'til him. I was going nowhere in a hurry 'til him._

He looked back at Eric,

Danny: _He filled up my empty life, filled it to the brim. There could never ever be another one...like him._

Eric looked truly touched at the words of the song, finally understanding what Mel Brooks had really wanted to convey. He stood up and walked over to Danny,

Eric: Leo, I ... I never realized ... you're a good singer.

Danny: Thank you,

He handed Eric a hankerchief

Eric: (crying) No, seriously, like a professional.

Danny: Well, I sang it for you, Max. I sang it because I'm your friend.

Eric: (after wiping his eyes) You are? Gee, I've had a lot of relationships, but you couldn't call any of them friend. But come to think of it.

He pushed Danny passed him,

Eric: _No one ever, ever really knew me 'til him._

The chorus of old ladies harmonized,

Eric: (pauses) _Everyone was always out to screw me 'til him, Never met I man I ever trusted, always dealt with shysters in the past. Now I'm well adjusted 'cause I've got a friend at last_

Little Old Ladies: _Aaaaaaaahh!_

Eric: Don't help me. _Always playing singles, never doubles 'til him. _

Eric stepped out of the "courtroom", only to be lead back at gunpoint

Eric_: Never had a pal to share my troubles 'til him._

Danny: _He filled up my empty life_

Danny & Eric: _Filled it to the brim_

Eric rested his head on Danny's shoulder, while he took the last notes of the song, resting his head on Eric's.

Danny: _There could never ever be another one ... like him_

The "judge" watched the scene play out before speaking again, "Gentlemen, it breaks my heart to break up such a beautiful friendship. So I won't."

Danny and Eric almost jumped in celebration, but not before the judge wrapped his gavel again,

"Five years in the State Penitentiary at Sing-Sing."


	22. Prisoners of Love

Disclaimer: I do not own The Producers and Danny Phantom

--

The lights popped on and a student dressed as a convict stepped out, he cleared his throat and belted,

Convict #1: _Gotta sing ... sing!_

Another hit the stage, belting as well,

Convict #2: _Gotta sing ... sing!_

Eric appeared, cane in hand, directing them,

Eric: Okay, boys, break's over. Let's take it from the top.

The lights turned to on to reveal Kwan at the piano with one of his pigeons. A "prisoner" walked over to Danny,

Convict #3: This is good! Hey Bloom, put me in for ten grand.

Danny took the money and marked the "prisoner" The "rehearsals" continued, with Kwan playing "his" newest song,

Eric & Convicts: _Prisoners of love, blue skies above, can't keep our hearts in jail_

Eric: Tempo, fellas! Pick up the tempo!

Eric & Convicts: _Prisoners of love, our turtledoves_

Danny hopped onto the stage, grabbing his cane, directing the "convicts"

Danny: Don't forget the balcony!

Eric & Convicts: _Soon coming 'round with bail_

Danny: Sing out, boys! Let 'em hear you in solitary!

Eric & Convicts: _Oh, you can lock us up and lose the key, but hearts in love are always free! Prisoners of love, blue skies above, 'cause we're still prisoners_

Eric: Take it home, boys. We open in Leavenworth Saturday night.

Eric & Convicts: _We're still prisoners, we're still prisoners of love_

A "guard" appeared onstage,

Prison Guard: Hey, Bialystock, Bloom, Liebkind, good news! This just came from the governor:

Eric, Danny, and Kwan turned their attentions to the "guard"

Prison Guard: "Gentlemen, you are hereby granted a full pardon for having - through song and dance - brought joy and laughter into the hearts of every murderer, rapist and sex maniac in Sing Sing." You're free!

The three jumped for joy, except Kwan, who was in a wheelchair, casts on both legs,

Danny: Free!

Eric: Next stop, Broadway!

Eric & Convicts: _But hearts in love are always free!_

The stagehands began to turn the set around, revealing a bevy of girls and Sam standing, wearing prisoner uniforms,

Sam & Girl Prisoners: _Prisoners of love, blue skies above, can't keep our hearts in jail!_

Dash popped out from backstage, dressed as a warden,

Dash: _Can't keep our hearts in jail!_

Sam & Girl Prisoners: _Prisoners of love, our turtledoves_

Dash:_ Soon coming 'round with bail _

Sam & Girl Prisoners: _Tote that bale!_

Male students entered in, wearing short shorts and sleeveless shirts

Male Prisoners: _You can lock us up and lose the key_

All: _But hearts in love are always free!_

Dash, Ulla & All Prisoners: _Prisoners of love, blue skies above, 'cause we're still prisoners...We're still prisoners...We're still prisoners of love!  
_

While several chorus members tossed around medicine balls and swung their "chains" around their heads, a cage containing two heavily muscled male "prisoners" rose up. They bent the "bars" and Dash stepped in, winking to the crowd,

All:_ Love! Love! Love! Love! Love! Love! Love! Love! Love! Love! Love! Love! _

The stage went dark for a moment, the other students disappearing from the stage. When a single spotlight came up, Danny was standing in a tuxedo. Another spotlight came on and Eric entered the stage in the same style tux, producer hat on his head. He reached behind his back and pulled out another hat. He handed it to Danny and raised his hand into the air.

A cane was tossed to him offstage. He caught another and tossed it to Danny. They began a little dance around the stage, singing,

Danny & Eric: _Leo and Max, up off our backs, back on the Great White Way! Leo and Max, back on our tracks, we're back on top to stay! __So when we take your money, never fear, we'll knock Broadway right on its ear._

Danny and Eric took turns stepping in front of each other, reminding the audience,

Danny and Eric:_ The cast is great, the script is swell, but this we're tellin' you, sirs, it's just no go, you got no show without the producers! __We'll never quit, hit after hit._

They shook hands when Tucker hit his projector, revealing the pair's future hits including _Death of a Salesman on Ice_, _She Schtups to Conquer_, _South Prosaic_, and many more. Taking off their hats, shaking them to the beat of the music, swinging their canes under their arms.

Danny and Eric: _You and me-o, we guarantee-o, you're lookin' at Leo and Max!! _

The entire company entered the stage and sang out,

Entire Ensemble: _The producers, Leo and Max! _


	23. There's Nothing Like A Show on Broadway

Disclaimer: I do not own The Producers and Danny Phantom.

--

The orchestra began to play again when the lights came up on the stage one final time. The now actor-less stage was soon filled again when the chorus came running out to a chorus of catcalls and cheers. Kwan ran out in between them and took his bow, getting an outstanding ovation.

Dash and Wesley ran next, the catcalls and cheers getting louder as they took their bows and joined Kwan and the chorus. Sam was the next to hit the stage, the audience now on their feet. She took a bow and cleared out of the way for Danny to enter.

The ovation got more sustained and thunderous, now that the cast had been added to the mix. Danny took his bow and joined with his clapping cohorts when Eric ran out onstage. He clasped his hands together, soaking in the adulation like a Presidential candidate, not realizing that the people he had busted his ass trying impress were no longer there.

The cast and company gestured to the orchestra, who got their own ovation. The cast linked hands and took a bow, the lights going out. Danny was the last the exit the stage, a singular spotlight hitting him. He turned around to face the audience one final time. Taking his cue from the orchestra, he began to sing,

Danny: _The overture is over, the curtain starts to rise. You're suddenly in clover, you can't believe your eyes. __You're sitting on the aisle, you break into a smile, why this magic feeling? And then, you realize:_

He paused for a moment, taking it all in,

Danny: _That there is nothing like a show on Broadway, nothing like a Broadway show. Hearts will skip a beat on Broadway, if you're feeling blue I'm telling you that's the place to go._

He counted the forms of entertainment that couldn't compare,

Danny: _Movies drag, their endings sag, TVs just a bore. So hit the street and move your feet to the place we all adore. _

Danny came to a stop at a barely lit desk,

Danny:_ Because there's nothing like a show on Broadway, there's nothing like a Broadway show._

Another spotlight kicked on, revealing Eric sitting on the desk, a dour expression on his face,

Eric: _It's often been said, "the theatre is dead." The critics repeat it en masse. But the theatre's alive, it's gonna survive all though it's a pain in the ass._

He stood up on the desk,

Eric:_ You waited forever and finally got tickets, to get to your seats you gotta cross pickets. The guy to your right is frightfully tight, the guy to your left appears to have rickets. _

He jumped off the desk and continued to complain,

Eric: _The music's yuck, the lyrics suck, the casting is all wrong, and when you reach the bathroom the line is five miles long,_

Danny cut him off,

Danny: _But, still there's nothing like a show on Broadway_

Eric shrugged and sang with Danny,

Both: _There's nothing like a Broadway show._

Eric stepped in front of Danny,

Eric: _You swear you'll never go again, it's simply not worthwhile_

Danny nodded in agreement,

Danny: _You make that vow and then somehow_

They smiled and sang,

Both: _You're back there on the aisle. That's why __there's nothing like a show on Broadway!_

The big band finish picked up as they sang,

Danny: _There's nothing like a Broadway_

Eric: _Till you're in movies!_

Danny: _There's nothing like a Broadway show!_

Eric reached into his pockets and pulled out the money from "Along Came Bialy", tossing it into the air,

Eric: _And though it is expensive at a hundred bucks a throw_

Eric put his arm around Danny's shoulders for the big finish,

Both: _There's nothing like a Broadway!_

The duo took their final bow when the cast reappeared onstage, this time with the crew and Ms. Charles. Danny stepped in front of them,

Danny: _Thanks for coming to see our show_

Sam joined him,

Sam: _Sad to tell you we got to go_

Kwan jumped out of the "casts",

Kwan: _Grab your hat and head for the door_

Dash and Wesley pushed him aside and danced,

Dash and Wesley: _In case you didn't notice, there ain't any more!_

Dash's production team popped out behind them,

Dash's Team: _If you like our show tell ev'ryone but..._

Eric stepped out, counting money,

Eric: _If you think it stinks, keep your big mouth shut!_

Starr, Valerie and Ashley tackled him to the ground, while the entire cast and crew,

All: _We're glad you came but we have to shout: Adios, au revoir, wiedersehen, ta-ta-ta…Goodbye...get lost...get out!!_

Ms. Charles stepped forward and told the audience,

Mr. Charles: It's over.

--

A/N: I did it! I finished the show! Now for, at least, one more chapter to go and this tale will draw to a close.


	24. The Love Pool

Disclaimer: I do not own The Producers and Danny Phantom

A/N: This is the final chapter everyone. I really want to thank all my reviewers for their suggestions and, well, reviews, but I would like to thank Nicole and Amethyst Ocean especially for their loyal patronage. I could not have found the inspiration to finish this story without all of you.

--

Backstage, in the Casper High Cafeteria, the cast and crew of the show were celebrating their success. Eric was the last guy to enter the cafeteria, the parents of the leads following close behind him. He lagged behind, waiting for something. He turned to the shadows that divided the entrance to the cafeteria from the auditorium.

Eric walked into the room, dark as Amity Park nights, and looked around, spotting a pair of pale blue eyes in the mirror behind.

He turned around and asked, "What'cha think?"

"It was insulting, outrageous and absolutely offensive to everyone involved in World War II." The deep Irish brogue said, "I loved it."

Elliot stepped out of the shadows,

"You don't mind if I take my leave?" He asked, ruffling his son's hair.

"Not really, I'm use to it by now." Eric stated, turning away for just a moment, "But, I wanted to…"

He turned to find his father was gone.

"I hate when he does that." Eric said.

"You know, talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity. "Ashley said, entering the room.

"Actually, answering your own question after talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity." He countered back, following her back into the cafeteria.

Inside the cafeteria, Dash was practically crushing Danny in a 'man hug' when he grabbed Eric.

"You know, Fen-turd, Cryan, you two aren't so bad," He said, "So, I'm going to something nice for you guys. Instead of beating the hell out of you and shoving you into lockers, from now on, I'm just gonna shove you into the lockers. No beatings."

"You're so generous, Dash." Danny drawled, pulling himself out of Dash's grip.

Danny rejoined Tucker, who was talking to his fellow techies.

"Where's Sam at?" Danny asked.

"Jealous somebody will try to steal your wife?" Tucker quipped.

"Tucker, I swear…"

"Danny, c'mon, you two had chemistry up there. A lot of times chemistry transfers off the stage. Look at Brad and Angelina."

"Do I look like Brad Pitt?"

"No, although you two have a similar taste in women." Tucker joked, "Seriously Danny, I would playing this part would have taught you that, sometimes, you gotta take a chance. Watch as I demonstrate."

Tucker walked over to Valerie, dipping her and kissing her on the lips. Valerie shoved him off and punched him in the stomach. Danny patted his slouching friend on the back.

"Forgive me if I don't use your infallible method of getting women, great master." Danny said.

"Look, Danny, I'm only saying this because I remember how ticked you were when she started to see Gregor or Elliot or whatever his name was." Tucker groaned, flopping into a nearby chair. "And I don't want you to make the same mistake twice."

"Thanks, Tucker, that mean's a lot."

"Don't get mushy, I hate being around you when you're depressed." Tucker said, "Just get to her before the common law assistant gets to her first."

Danny looked up to Wesley make another advance towards Sam and, much to his delight, Sam did not reciprocate. He walked over to Sam and tapped her shoulder. Sam turned to see Danny, who asked Wesley,

"Mind if I cut in?"

"We weren't dancing." Wesley replied curtly.

"Good, then I'm not interrupting anything." Danny shot back, "Sam, can we talk?"

"Sure." Sam answered, putting her arm out.

Danny took it and they walked to the edge of the cafeteria. Before they could even formulate any words, Jeremy and Pamela burst into the cafeteria, carrying a sign that read, **"Winter for Hitler!"**

"Where's the rest of the mob?" Maddie asked.

"They'll be here in a few minutes." Pamela shot back.

"Mom! Dad! What are you doing?" Sam cried, embarrassed.

"Calm down, sunshine, we're protecting you and your friends' fragile little minds." Jeremy commanded.

"My mind is not fragile!" Dash shouted.

"Yeah, it just doesn't exist." Sam said out of the corner of her mouth.

"And you two," Pamela said, pointing to Ms. Charles and Lancer, "I'm going to make sure that you're both stripped of your teaching certifications. Teaching children to worship Nazis and to objectify women and the elderly."

Pamela stopped talking; causing Danny to raise an eyebrow to realize that everyone in the room except him and Ms. Charles had frozen.

"Ms. Charles, what is going on?" He asked.

"I think I can answer that, Daniel." A voice reminiscent of Kane from "Kung Fu" sounded off in the room.

Danny turned to see Clockwork standing, in his adult form, in the doorway.

"You see, this is a story about a woman who never got a chance to rest in peace because she was struck down before she could ever show the world she was capable of." Clockwork said, transforming into a elderly man, "If you haven't guessed by now, Daniel, the time freeze I put on the room is only for the humans and daywalkers."

"Day what?" Danny asked.

"You'll find out later." Clockwork said, taking baby form.

"So, that means that," Danny said, finally understanding, "Ms, Charles is a ghost."

"Exactly." Ms. Charles confirmed, turning to Clockwork, "I told you that he was smarter than you give him credit for."

"I'm aware." Clockwork said.

"But, then how did she…"

"Counteract your ghost senses?" Clockwork finished, "I may have had a little something to do with that."

"Yes, because you couldn't just make sure my human body was, you know, temporarily alive." Ms. Charles quipped.

"Now, Esther, you received your final wish. Don't attack the spirit that gave it to you." Clockwork, an adult once again, stated, "I figured that the whole diabetic thing was subtle enough to keep people from getting suspicious as to why Danny was still in class when he normally vanishes without explanation. Now, it's time to go."

"What about the show?" Danny asked, "We've got two more nights to go."

"I think I can fix that." Clockwork answered, "Esther, who can we give this show too?"

"Give it to Edward, he was my strongest supporter." Ms. Charles, who had morphed back into the spirit of Esther St. James, said.

"Who?" Danny asked.

"Mr. Lancer." Esther answered back.

Clockwork waved his hand and a portal opened, "Come now, Esther, there are some people that want to see you."

"I'm on my way." She said, walking over to Danny and kissing him on the cheek, "Thank you, Danny. Break a leg for the next two nights."

"I'll try." Danny said, watching Esther follow Clockwork through the portal.

He unconsciously followed them and saw Esther climbing a stairway, a man waiting for her at the top. There was a flash of light and everything returned to normal, or whatever passes for normal in this town, and everybody returned to their original tasks. Danny ran over to Sam, grabbed her by the arm and darted outside of the cafeteria before a cartoon-sized dustball surrounded her parents and Lancer.

"Danny, what are you doing?" She shouted, prying her arm out of Danny's hands.

"Are you interested in Wesley Wells?"

"What? No! He's a horse's ass." Sam countered, "Why did you ask me that?"

Danny decided to take that chance Tucker had talked about and kissed Sam on the lips. Unlike her prior kiss with Wesley, Sam was happily surprised by Danny's forwardness and returned the kiss, not noticing that Eric, Ashley, Wesley, Tucker and several others were watching the kiss.

Eric jumped into the air, pumping his arms into the air, "I called 'end of the show', pay up!"

"How could he possibly have guessed that there would be a show this year?" Tucker asked.

"I read the story first." Eric said.

--

In the Heavens above, Esther and her fiancé, Michael Malone, were watching the scene unfold above them.

"Do you think they'll have another musical next year?" He asked, wrapping his arms around his fiancée once again.

"I think so. Before I left, I gave Edward the idea to do Assassins?" Esther answered.

"The Sondheim musical?" He asked, Esther nodding, "Why would you do that to the poor man?"

"It's crass, offensive, and insulting. I love the show and I really love watching Sam's parents get angry." She said.

--

A/N: Whoo! I did it! I did it! I finished the story at long last…

Soulless Warlock: For of those who have read this tale, I'd like to say thank you. And I'd like to leave you with a little song of mine, set to the melody of "At Last" by Etta James…

_At last this is all done, I no longer have writer's block, and I can finally move on. At last the skies above are blue, my heart stopped palpitating the day this story was all through. _

_I found readers that I can write for, readers I can call my own, I passed over 31 reviews, a thrill that I've never known. __I smiled, and they smiled, oh, and then the spell was cast and here I am in Heaven for this story's done at last._


End file.
